


To The Sea

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Anal Sex, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Massage, On the Run, Oral Sex, Reunions, Road Trips, Scars, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Scorpia Rising. Unable to settle in his new home, the now sixteen year old Alex runs away - only to be picked up by Yassen whilst hitchhiking his way across country. Maybe at last he's found the one person who might understand what he's been through - but it won't necessarily be plain sailing even now.</p><p>“Way away, over bridges and sighs, And on and on, on and on, She keeps it all locked up right inside.”<br/><i>~ To The Sea, Razorlight.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Scorpia Rising and Russian Roulette.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Contains descriptions of suicidal thoughts.

The truck stop diner was quiet at this time of night, a few lorry drivers, a pair of travelling salesmen, the bored looking waitress. No-one took much notice of the boy in the end booth, who'd been staring into a glass of coke for so long it had gone flat. 

Black woollen coat, plain olive jumper, faded black jeans. Blond hair falling into his eyes, a stare that seemed to go on forever.

He'd given it a year. 

In the end, the decision had been easy. The actual leaving, less so. But he could see what he was doing to them. He knew it was best if he didn't stay.

Alex had appreciated the gesture. For a while, he really had enjoyed being part of a family for once, had genuinely tried to fit in. But deep down, he'd known it was never more than an act.

He'd grown apart from Sabina as well. At least they'd both quickly recognised that, and there'd been no awkwardness. From the moment he moved in she'd become more of a sister anyway.

Sister. Mother. Father. But of course they weren't, they never had been. They'd welcomed him, and opened their home to him, and he'd done his best. But they didn't really want to know what he'd been through. And he didn't want to tell them. Why should he ruin their illusions that he was healing, that he'd put it behind him? That he was just a normal boy.

The first months had been the hardest. A time when despite assurances, he'd never really believed that Scorpia was finished, that someone wouldn't come after him again. Jumping at every unexpected noise, wondering if every unknown car that passed the house was watching him.

Eventually, paranoia faded into watchfulness, but he was never really at ease. Always wondering if his presence was putting his new family in danger somehow.

And he could see, too, the effect he was having on them. Relations were becoming strained, as they did their best to understand and accept him, to reach out to him. And failed.

They'd started arguing. Not with him, but about him. He'd heard them, seen the way they fell silent when he walked into a room.

Finally, he'd written them a note. It hadn't been very long. Thanking them. And apologising. Saying goodbye.

He'd left in the middle of the night. Had started out on a bus, the first coach leaving town, not caring where it was going. After that, he'd hitched rides, randomly, no destination in mind, just away from where he'd been.

He was sixteen now, a few months away from being seventeen. Looked older. Felt older. And tired.

Alex became aware of a presence standing by his table and looked up, reluctantly dragging his mind back to the present.

One of the truck drivers was looming over him, leering down with an unpleasant grin.

"You lookin' fer a ride?" he drawled, southern accent oddly out of place this far north. 

Alex shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

The man didn't move. "Ah think you are." He was chewing something, noisily, and Alex hid a brief twitch of revulsion. "Ah think you should come with me."

"Well, thanks. But I think you should leave me alone." Alex looked away, bored. The man was clearly doing his best to appear threatening, and whatever he had in mind - robbery, or worse - Alex almost wanted to laugh at him. As if any threat he could possibly present could be worse than what he was living with.

And despite being less than half his size, Alex knew he could take him.

The man was getting angry. "Ah _said_ \- "

"And he said, leave him alone." 

A third quiet voice entered the conversation, and Alex went suddenly still.

The trucker stared at the man facing him, his back to the rest of the room. "Who th'fuck're you?"

"I'm the man telling you to get lost." The new arrival opened his coat a little, let the gun in the underarm holster be glimpsed. The truck driver went pale, but spat on the floor defiantly. 

"Well, shit." He hitched his trousers up, none too soon given the amount of stomach they were already exposing, and waddled off hurriedly.

Yassen Gregorovich watched him leave the diner, then turned back to where Alex was now looking up at him. If Alex was surprised to see him, it didn't show on his face.

"May I sit down?"

Alex shrugged, and Yassen slid onto the seat opposite. 

"I could have handled him." Alex sounded resentful.

Yassen spread his hands over the formica top. "You're welcome."

Alex stared at him for a while longer. "You're supposed to be dead," he said flatly.

"Apparently not." Yassen leaned back as the waitress banged a mug down in front of him and filled it with over-stewed coffee from the pot. "Thank you." 

She grunted and wandered away again. He studied Alex, who'd gone back to staring out of the darkened window. Or staring at their reflections, perhaps.

"You might say rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Yassen murmured, but Alex didn't so much as crack a smile.

"I saw you die," Alex said, after a pause of at least a minute, during which Yassen just sipped at his coffee and let Alex process things.

"You saw me lose consciousness," Yassen corrected, quietly. "Happily, not quite the same thing."

Alex sighed. Not only could you not believe what anyone told you any more, apparently neither could you believe the evidence of your own eyes. Mind you, he more than anyone should have known the truth of that.

"Where have you been?" Alex glanced back at him, dropping his eyes immediately, staring at the pitted surface of the table instead. Not allowing himself to wonder how things might have turned out differently if Yassen had been around during the events following his apparent demise.

"Prison." Yassen shrugged. "MI6 were very keen to keep me out of circulation." He looked at Alex closely, the better to measure the effect of his next words. "A compound on Gibraltar."

Alex stiffened, the faint colour draining out of his cheeks, and Yassen knew he understood the significance.

This time, the silence lasted several minutes. Alex had folded his arms tightly across his chest as if he was cold, leaning on the table edge.

"Julius." It was the first time he'd spoken the name in more than a year. 

"Yes." Yassen toyed with his mug, turning it in slow circles on the table. "Gave me quite the shock when I arrived." 

"My heart bleeds." Alex was watching him now, expression closed, cold.

"They told us he was killed trying to escape," Yassen continued, ignoring the hostility in Alex's tone. "Personally, I always suspected it unlikely."

"How did _you_ escape?" Alex blurted suddenly. "Don't imagine they let you out early for good behaviour."

Yassen allowed himself a brief smile. "The facility was disbanded. I - ah - took the opportunity to liberate myself whilst in transit."

"And came looking for me?" Alex frowned, wondering suddenly for the first time what Yassen was doing here, whether he was in danger. 

"I was - " he hesitated over the choice of words. "Concerned. What might have transpired, with the boy at large."

"You're too late." Alex's voice was bitter, flat. 

"Yes." Yassen sighed, drained the last of the burnt coffee in the cup. It hadn't taken him long, in the end, to gather enough resources to become up to date with the career of British Intelligence's youngest recruit. What he'd heard had sickened even him. Not least because most of it was arguably his fault. 

But there was little point in explaining his motivation. Alex would be unlikely to believe him anyway. And deep down, Yassen had the uncomfortable feeling that his desire to track Alex down was rooted not just in concern for his wellbeing, but in a simpler and more inexplicable desire just to see him again.

He hadn't even decided, until he got here, whether he would approach the boy. Had been more than half-inclined to stay back, to satisfy himself all was well and leave again. Knowing to re-enter Alex's life could do more harm than good.

But then he'd arrived in San Francisco to discover that Alex had fled his adopted family three days earlier. It hadn't been all that hard to track him here. And it was the look in Alex's eyes that had made his mind up for him, rather than any perceived or imagined threat.

The emptiness. It was a look he recognised. Mostly from the mirror.

"So." Yassen spilled a handful of change on the table, enough for the coffee. "Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

"I don't need your help." 

"But you do need a ride. Unless you'd rather take your chances with Squealy the trucker out there?" Yassen leaned back in the seat and watched the tiniest of smiles tug at Alex's lips. And knew then and there that he wasn't yet a lost cause. 

"Where are you headed?" 

Yassen pursed his lips. "Where do you want to go?"

\--

They drove north. Alex was slumped in the passenger seat, eyes blankly on the road ahead. The car was powerful and carried them through the night in quiet comfort.

Yassen remained silent, sensing any attempt at conversation would be met with irritation. 

When the first streaks of dawn began to lighten the eastern sky, they pulled in at a roadside motel, took a room that opened off the carpark. Crawling still half-dressed into the bed furthest from the window, Alex was asleep within seconds. Yassen lay awake for some time, watching him.

\--

Noon saw them on the road again. There had been a minimum of conversation between them, mostly relating to the late breakfast they'd shared. Yassen not pushing, Alex not volunteering.

They'd been driving for perhaps an hour when Alex spoke for the first time, quietly.

"Do you know? What happened to me?" Eyes still fixed on the road.

Yassen glanced at him. "Yes. I heard. In Egypt. And - before." 

Alex gave a slight nod, satisfied, perhaps, that he wouldn't have to explain anything. When another few minutes went past without him speaking again, Yassen finally brought up the thing that had been on his mind ever since reading those stark, cold reports that had shaken him more than he'd thought possible.

"I'm sorry."

Alex looked over at him then, puzzled. Wondered if he meant about Jack, but it had sounded more like an apology than an expression of sympathy.

"What for?"

It was Yassen's turn to keep his gaze fixed firmly on the blacktop. "I sent you to them. I could have sent you to your death. I never meant - " he stopped. "I didn't know. I'm sorry, Alex." Not hoping for forgiveness. But needing to say it.

"I'm sorry too." 

Yassen blinked, taken by surprise. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

Alex hesitated, curling round in the seat to face him, resting his head against the back. "My father. He wasn't who you wanted him to be. I'm sorry." 

Yassen was silent for a while, then smiled, ruefully. "Whoever he was, he was still my friend. That much, I now believe."

Alex gave a wan smile. "I thought maybe you hated me. Because of it. That you'd come to kill me."

"Hate you?" Yassen looked at him, shook his head. "Never." He gave a short, incredulous laugh. "You accepted a ride, thinking I might be planning on killing you?"

"Might have been the best thing." Alex closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of the car soothe his aching head.

"Excuse me if I disagree," Yassen murmured, casting a long look at the boy in the seat beside him. Alex's face was pale, and he was too thin. There were dark shadows under his eyes. And the night - morning - they'd spent in the motel - 

"Do you often have nightmares?" he asked, softly.

Alex opened his eyes, scowled uncomfortably. Then sighed. What was the point in fighting?

"Most nights." 

Yassen nodded, stayed quiet for a while. "People know that?"

"No." Alex fidgeted in the seat, wishing he'd drop it. "What's the point?"

"They could help you."

Alex sat up, angry. "No. You know what? They really couldn't. All those stupid therapists they tried to make me see, saying they _understood what I was going through_ \- how the fuck could they? How could they possibly understand, Yassen?"

He shrugged, non-committal. "Whereas bottling everything up for a year has helped immensely?"

Alex made a wordless noise of frustration, let his hand fall listlessly to the seat. "There was no-one I could talk to. No-one who would have understood."

Another mile of silence. The road was climbing now, into the mountains, the roadsides clad with dark fir trees and bare rock.

"You can talk to me." The offer was made quietly, impassively. "If you want."

Alex's only response was to grunt, and stare pointedly out of the side window.

They were high up, far along the winding mountain road before Alex spoke again.

"They made me watch." 

Yassen glanced over at him, but said nothing. Knowing better than to interrupt. Sensing, too, that Alex wasn't so much talking to him, as to himself.

"When they killed her. When _he_ killed her." Alex sounded fierce and choked at the same time, struggling to stay detached.

Yassen slowed for a hairpin bend, the ground dropping sickeningly away to their left. "The people involved. They are dead?"

"Yes."

"You killed them."

A pause. "Yes."

Yassen nodded. Alex waited for him to say something. When he didn't, Alex gave a half-sobbing laugh. 

"Do you think I was always meant to be a killer?"

"You know I don't."

"But - you think I was right to kill them." 

"Sometimes, revenge is all that's left," said Yassen, slowly.

"Then why doesn't it make me feel better?"

Yassen looked at him, half-smiled, expression almost compassionate. "That's how you know you're not a killer, Alex."

Alex looked away, as much to hide the tears that were pricking at his eyes as much as a reluctance to meet his gaze.

"Stop the car," he whispered hoarsely, cheeks already wet. " _Please_."

Yassen pulled into a roadside viewpoint and turned off the engine. Alex yanked the door open and stumbled away, scrubbing at his face.

For a long while, Yassen let Alex be, a lonely figure standing by the crumpled metal barrier, looking out over the mile-deep drop to the valley below. He was clearly crying, helplessly and miserably. Not until he'd wiped his eyes and set his shoulders did Yassen follow him out of the car, walking slowly across the gravelled stretch of ground, giving Alex time to hear his approach.

Came to stand next to him, looking down the ravine. Not speaking. 

"Thank you." Alex sniffed and wiped his nose on his hand, but he sounded more determined than he had a moment ago and Yassen didn't miss the change.

He inclined his head slightly, enquiring. Alex took a breath, let it out.

"For not telling me everything'll be alright or some shit like that."

Yassen shrugged. "I don't think you want me to lie to you." He moved closer, rested a hand briefly on Alex's shoulder. "But I do think you'll be okay Alex. You're stronger than you realise." 

Alex looked at him, face tearstained and disbelieving. "Will it ever stop hurting?"

"I can't answer that. I can only promise it will fade, with time. Which doesn't especially help, I know." 

For a second, Alex leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder. Then pulled away. "It's getting dark. We should probably find somewhere."

They walked back to the car together. They hadn't discussed this, this journey they were somehow taking. Yassen had seemed happy just to drive, and let Alex sit quietly next to him. Alex assumed he would say, if it had to end, if time, or money became a factor. 

It had been a long time, since he'd trusted someone else to make the decisions for him, and he was realising with a faint surprise, that he _did_ trust Yassen. Even if he wasn't wholly sure why.

It was further than they expected before a hotel finally came into view, and it was full dark as they pulled in under the neon sign.

In reception, they were met with the news that all twin and single rooms had gone, and it was a double or nothing.

Yassen looked back at Alex, raised his eyebrows in silent enquiry. Was mostly expecting Alex to refuse, to insist they kept going, found somewhere else. 

Alex glanced back out of the door, where the first flurries of snow were coming down in the darkness. He shivered.

"Take it. I don't mind."

The bed, at least, was plenty big enough for them to sleep without risk of touching. Yassen offered to sleep on the floor, but Alex shook his head. 

"Don't be daft." He smiled, fleetingly. "I might be screwed up but I'm not a prude." 

They climbed in, carefully wary of each other. Alex turned on his side, away from Yassen, curled his arm under the pillow and closed his eyes wearily. They'd been on the road a long time, and it was surprising how exhausted he was. The thought drifted through his mind that Yassen, who'd done all the driving, must be even more shattered, and that he should thank him, but even as he entertained the thought, he drifted off to sleep.

\--

The movement beside him woke Yassen instantly, and he sat up, alert and tensed for whatever was happening. He relaxed almost immediately, realising with a pang of something indefinable that Alex was still fast asleep, and in the throes of a nightmare.

He'd watched him go through the same the previous night, torn between waking him or saving Alex the mortification of him doing so. Eventually, Alex had subsided back into a troubled but deeper sleep, and Yassen, finally, had slept himself.

Now, he gazed down at the restless figure beside him, and wondered what to do for the best. Alex had rolled onto his back, covers partly thrown off, fingers twisted into his own hair. Quiet whimpers of distress escaped his lips every so often, and he was frowning in his sleep.

Making up his mind, Yassen reached out, touched Alex lightly on the shoulder. It was enough; Alex's eyes flew open immediately, and he gasped in a shuddering breath, disoriented and shaking.

Alex sitting up coincided with Yassen leaning forward, and now somehow the boy was in his arms and Yassen was holding him tight to his body.

He could feel Alex's heart hammering through his thin t-shirt, beating wildly against his own chest. Alex's arms were round his neck, face buried in his shoulder, fluttering breath hot against his skin.

He held him, wordlessly, for a long time. One hand rubbing gently up and down Alex's spine, the only movement.

Eventually, Alex pulled back, expression unreadable in the darkened room, but Yassen sensed he was blushing.

"Sorry," Alex muttered.

"Don't be." Yassen wondered how long it had been since Alex had accepted comfort from someone. Suspected the darkness made it easier, and had no wish to embarrass him.

They lay down again, a careful gap still left between them, but a little closer than they had been before. Neither stirred again until the sun was well up in the sky.

\--

When they left the room that morning, it was to a world of white. The snow had continued falling overnight, and now sharp blue skies ranged over a land wiped clean.

Yassen eyed the road with disgust. "Don't think we'll be going very far today."

The man in the office had come out behind them. "Snowploughs'll be through later. You should be alright to move on tomorrow, assuming we don't have any more. Book you in again for tonight shall I?" He grinned and sauntered back inside, with Yassen watching him sourly. 

"Looks like he's got a captive audience," he muttered.

Alex flashed a sudden smile. "Don't think you can blame him for the snow."

"Watch me." Yassen relented, gave a quiet laugh. "So. Looks like we're stuck here. What do you want to do?"

\--

They hiked up the mountain a way, in rented boots and cold weather gear. The bright, crisp air seemed to rejuvenate Alex to some degree, and restored a flush of colour to his cheeks. The trail was too steep for conversation, and they pushed on a good distance, neither remotely willing to be the first to suggest they rest or turn back.

Eventually, and much to Alex's relief, they came to an outcrop that looked out over the valley. Someone had long ago placed a fallen tree trunk there for a bench, and it was natural for them to brush the snow away and settle for a while. They'd brought coffee and sandwiches, and devoured them thankfully.

Alex looked pensive. Yassen hadn't mentioned the previous night, for which he was grateful, but at the same time - it was like prodding a sore tooth. 

"Do you ever have nightmares?" 

If the question surprised Yassen, he didn't show it. Glanced at Alex, who was staring out over the snow-capped rocks.

"Sometimes." Yassen scuffed at the snow with his boot. "Not often. I don't dream much at all."

"Never - recurring?" Alex chewed his lip absent-mindedly.

"Not any more." The soft admission made Alex look round at him, but Yassen didn't meet his eyes. That there'd once been a time when he was anything less than hardened to this life - wasn't something he cared to remember. If it had been anyone but Alex - he sighed inwardly. Examining his own motives was a side-effect he hadn't bargained on. But in any case, Alex was preoccupied with his own demons.

"I see it over and over." Alex's voice was low, almost inaudible. He was still staring out over the view, but Yassen was fairly sure he was no longer seeing the mountains. 

"Sometimes it's on the screen. Sometimes - sometimes I'm there. I'm right there. I can feel the flames, the heat. But I can't do anything." His hand was curling into a tight fist where it rested between them on the tree. Yassen resisted the urge to cover it with his own.

"Sometimes - " Alex faltered. "Sometimes - I'm not me. I'm _him_." He shuddered, the admission alone making him feel guilty, sick. Not sure if Yassen would even know what he was talking about, and not sure he had it in him to elaborate. But -

"Julius."

"Yes." Barely a croak, now. "I'm looking down at me in the chair. And I've got the control. And I know, that I can stop it, all I have to do is not - is - but "

He could feel tears on his face, startlingly hot in the cold air, was struggling for breath as much as words.

Yassen, calm, beside him. "But you press the button."

Alex nodded jerkily, stricken, the sobs coming in earnest now, and hardly knowing what to do with himself. "I killed her."

Yassen did reach out then, pulled him almost angrily into a rough embrace. "You didn't kill her Alex."

"I might as well have." Alex mumbled in his shoulder, brokenly. "She should never have been there. If it hadn't been for me - "

"You can't do everything alone Alex. Even you." 

"I can't stop going over it. Over and over. That there must have been something, something I could have done differently. Some way of saving her."

"There wasn't." 

Alex looked up, stubborn and miserable. "You don't know that. You weren't there."

"I know you." Yassen brushed the hair back out of Alex's eyes, swiped a thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away the tears. "If anything could have been done, you would have done it."

Alex sniffed and subsided back against his chest. They stayed there for a long time, just sitting.

Eventually, Yassen looked up, and around at their surroundings. "We should be getting back."

Alex looked up too, puzzled. "There's still hours of daylight left."

"There's a storm coming. Can't you feel it?" 

Alex frowned as Yassen kept glancing skywards. "Snow. You can smell it."

"We're surrounded by the bloody stuff, it's no wonder. Anyway, snow doesn't smell." Alex got up and followed him anyway, willing enough to head back to the relative comfort of the motel.

They hadn't gone far at all, before the sky began to darken ominously. Yassen tightened his lips, but said nothing, merely quickened the pace. The going was easier now, heading downhill, but they had to be careful not to slip.

"We'll be okay, right?" Alex muttered anxiously, more nervous at the way Yassen was behaving than any apprehension of the weather.

"Sure." 

Alex stared at the back of his head as they slithered downwards in ever increasing haste. He was partly tempted to remind Yassen he'd promised he wouldn't lie to him. Reconsidered. He wasn't sure he wanted to know if he was.

The first flakes settled lightly on them, almost welcome at first, as their exertions were making them hot despite the chilly temperature.

"Stay close." Yassen threw the warning over his shoulder as they moved below the treeline, hemmed in now by dark pines that cut out more of the light. It was dull grey all around them, and the wind was a mournful soughing in the branches. Alex shuddered. It was frightening how quickly the weather had changed, from a cloudless day to a twilight that flung dizzying swirls of snow in their faces.

He was a step or two behind the Russian at most, but already it was difficult to see him. Blundering on, almost blind, Alex ran into him before he realised Yassen had stopped.

"What's up?" 

"We have to stop."

"What?" Alex peered through the snow, wiping melting flakes out of his eyes.

"I'm not a hundred percent certain which way the track goes. We need to wait it out here, or risk getting lost in those woods."

Alex beat his arms around himself, getting colder by the second. "Oh come on! You're kidding. We just keep going straight, that's all. Between the trees. Downhill."

"And you know which way's straight do you?" There was a faintly mocking tone in Yassen's voice which stung Alex harder than it should have.

"Well it's not hard. It's that way." Alex stared through the snow, certain he was right.

Almost certain.

"Hmmn." Yassen sighed. "So that way doesn't lead off the cliff? Or into a snowdrift? Or into the middle of miles of identical trees?"

"Didn't think you were scared of anything," Alex snapped, unwilling to back down now he'd committed himself.

"Alex, this is stupid. We stay where we are until visibility improves, that's all there is to it."

"I'm not stupid!" Alex spun away, started striding through the snow, back towards the motel. Ignoring the shouts behind him.

"I didn't - Alex! Alex! Damn it, stay where you are!"

Alex kept going, wading through the snow that seemed to be deeper with every step. He could barely see inches ahead, and the whirling flakes were making him dizzy, but he wasn't going to stop. If he carried on Yassen would have to follow him, and they would make it back that much sooner. Better than staying out here all night.

Alex's foot caught in a tree root and he fell flat on his face. Sitting up, he spat snow out of his mouth and scrambled awkwardly to his feet, faintly glad Yassen was now too far back to see it.

How far away was he? He'd stopped shouting, and all Alex could hear was the whisper of falling snow.

He looked round. His footprints were fast filling up with snow, but he was confident if he kept going this way, he was going in the right direction.

One step. Two steps. 

Something snatched at his woollen hat, and he ducked, alarmed, thinking that Yassen had caught him up after all. But there was no scolding voice, no reassuring presence with him in the blizzard. What had grabbed him? He looked up, realised it was a tree branch. Untangled his hat, jammed it back on, unwilling to accept he'd wandered far enough off the path to be under the trees already.

But he'd tripped on a root.

Yassen's warnings came back to haunt him. Which way was the edge? He was no longer sure, realised he never had been, not really. Just too wound up in his own anger to listen. 

"Yassen?" It came out as a pathetic croak, and Alex shook himself. Cleared his throat. "Yassen! Hey!" He yelled it at the top of his voice, hoping against hope he wasn't too far away to be heard. The snow seemed to deaden all sound, to swallow up the echoes. There was a silence that seemed to stretch out all around.

"Alex?" The shouted reply came, faint but audible. Alex felt suddenly weak.

"Over here!"

"Keep shouting. And stay put!"

Alex did as he was told. It seemed an age, but eventually a dark shape loomed out of the snowy static and then Yassen was there in front of him, and Alex had thrown his arms around him before he even thought about what he was doing.

He was expecting to be yelled at, shaken, perhaps, but to his surprise Yassen just gave a short, exasperated laugh and held him close. 

"I'm sorry," said Alex in a small voice.

"Remind me never to employ you. Your attitude towards taking orders is deplorable." 

Alex laughed, despite himself. "What do we do now?" he asked hesitantly, as Yassen let him go again.

"We stay put." Yassen looked around, frowning in helpless annoyance at the worsening blizzard. "Here. Dig out some of the snow between these roots. The tree will give some protection, at least."

For a minute or so they worked together to excavate a hole big enough for them to sit side by side, brushing the snow away down to the bare earth. The exertion was enough to warm them up again, and when they'd finished to Yassen's satisfaction and hunkered down, shoulder to shoulder with their backs against the bole of the tree, Alex found they were sheltered from the worst of the wind as well. 

"Do you think we'll have to stay here all night?" Alex wondered tentatively, after they'd sat there for a few minutes.

"Hopefully not." 

Alex snuck a sideways glance at him. Yassen seemed entirely content to sit in silence for as long as it took for the storm to pass. Alex sighed, wishing he had the same patience.

"Still, we've both been in worse spots, right?" Alex said, after another couple of minutes had passed.

"Mmmn." 

"Am I annoying you?" 

Yassen snorted. "Starting to wish I'd left you out here."

Alex looked round, but relaxed when he saw the slight twist of a smile on Yassen's lips.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling his knees up tight to his chest.

"We'll be okay," Yassen said, realising Alex's chatter stemmed from nerves. "This wind will blow the storm through soon enough. We don't need it to stop, just for visibility to get better."

Alex nodded with a sigh. Now they'd stopped moving, the cold was seeping back into his bones, and he was soon visibly shivering. Yassen eyed him, then held out an arm.

"Come closer. It'll be warmer."

Alex shuffled across, equally grateful and embarrassed, until he was tucked firmly against Yassen's side, the arm still round his shoulders. At first tense and awkward, he gradually relaxed as the comforting warmth of Yassen's body made him feel better. He let his head sag tiredly onto Yassen's shoulder. They'd walked a long way, and now the fear of being alone out here had eased, Alex realised how drowsy he was.

"Hey. Don't go to sleep," Yassen warned quietly. "It would be a bad idea."

Alex yawned. "Seems like it'd be a nice way to go," he murmured, without opening his eyes. "Best of the ways I've been offered. Peaceful. To just - slip away, you know?"

The arm round him tightened briefly, then relaxed.

"Who's talking about dying?" Yassen asked in an offhand tone. "I was just going to go through your pockets. I'm fairly sure you had some of that chocolate left." 

Taken by surprise, Alex giggled and sat up. "Idiot."

Yassen gave him a fleeting smile. "Less talk of dying, okay?" he said softly. 

"Okay." Alex nodded, then searched his pockets, and came up with half a bar of milk chocolate they hadn't finished with the sandwiches. "Hey, jackpot."

They shared the chocolate between them, grateful for the distraction from their predicament. Despite his words, Yassen was inclined to let Alex have it all but Alex pressed half into his hand with a determined shake of the head, and he accepted with a smile. 

It was another hour before the blizzard finally lessened. At intervals, Yassen had insisted they both get up and stamp the feeling back into their limbs, the rest of the time huddling together in the meagre shelter of the tree.

"I think it's stopping." Yassen peered up through the branches, blinking at the flakes settling on his face.

Alex looked up and squinted doubtfully but a few minutes later the improvement was unmistakeable.

"Come on." Yassen hauled Alex upright as soon as they could see a reasonable distance ahead through the trees, and together they waded through the snow. In places it was thigh deep, and the going was, if not hazardous, at least ungainly. 

With a fresh covering, the landscape looked utterly different from how Alex remembered it, so it was with surprised relief he found them back on the track, a visibly wider path between the trees.

"I'm not even going to ask how you did that," he muttered, wondering suspiciously if the Russian had had a compass on him all this time, but Yassen just laughed.

"Position of the sun," was all he said, starting to move off down the slope.

Alex reluctantly conceded that this was at least just visible now, and started following as fast as he could, struck with a sudden fear of being left behind.

They made the hotel two hours later, reaching the sanctuary of their room with exhausted relief. Alex collapsed straight onto the bed, only for Yassen to tug insistently at his sleeve.

"Up. You need to take those clothes off, they're soaked through. And you should have a hot shower."

"You go first," Alex mumbled, eyes obstinately closed. "I'm too knackered to move yet."

"If you don't change those clothes, I'm undressing you myself," Yassen warned, and Alex snorted, rolling reluctantly over and groaning. 

"Fine," he muttered.

As soon as Yassen was satisfied Alex was doing as he told, he took him at his word and went to take a fast shower himself. When he came out, Alex was sitting curled on the bed in a towelling robe with the duvet draped round him.

"Your turn," Yassen offered, then when Alex didn't look up, he sat next to him. "Okay?" 

"My hands hurt," Alex confessed, and Yassen frowned, realising Alex had scratched red lines over the backs of both. 

"Hey." He caught Alex's hands in his own, stopped the convulsive movement. "Don't do that."

"Itches." Alex made a face. "Do you think I've got frostbite?" he added in a small voice, scared that he might have done something inadvertently awful to himself. 

Yassen turned his hands over to look at them consideringly. "No. It's just the circulation coming back. It'll hurt for a while." He covered them again, massaging Alex's hands between his own.

Alex sat there submissively and let him. He felt like he could fall asleep where he sat, leaning against Yassen's shoulder. It felt nice, the friction of Yassen's fingers working out the pins and needles in his hands, and reassuring as well. His eyelids drooped, and before he knew it he was fast asleep.

Yassen looked down at him and laughed softly. He laid Alex down against the bed, and tucked the duvet round him as snugly as he could. 

\--

In the first light of dawn, Alex blinked awake, for a moment disoriented and tangled in too many layers. Discovering he appeared to be swathed in the entire duvet, he sat up carefully to find Yassen asleep next to him under the room's spare blanket. 

Yassen was lying on his back, one arm curled by his head, and Alex looked down at him thoughtfully. In sleep, he looked younger, softer, and Alex realised how little he actually knew about him. Ash had told him a certain amount, he knew Yassen had been orphaned as a child, made his way alone through the world. But details were sparse, and Alex wished he knew more.

He lifted the duvet carefully over them both, feeling guilty that Yassen had let him monopolise it. At the touch, Yassen's eyes flickered open for a moment, meeting Alex's and giving him a questioning smile.

"Thank you," Yassen murmured as he realised what Alex was doing, and Alex smiled back.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "It's still early." Lay down again himself, feeling oddly comforted by Yassen's proximity. Was asleep again in moments.

When he woke for a second time, it was full daylight and Yassen was up and dressed. He'd been to fetch coffee, and there was a second cardboard cup waiting for Alex by the bed.

"Morning." He watched Alex sit up and yawn, hair sticking up at random angles. "How do you feel? After yesterday?"

Alex stretched experimentally. His legs were sore, but otherwise he felt fine. He looked up, nodding, and then realised something else.

"No dreams," Alex said wonderingly. "That's - the first night I've not had nightmares since - I can't remember."

"Maybe it's the first time you've let yourself think about it during the day?" Yassen suggested. 

Alex's expression closed down, unwillingly reminded of his humiliating meltdown on the mountain. "Who died and made you the psychiatrist?" he muttered.

"How long have you got?" Yassen replied coldly, then winced, cross with himself. But Alex, too, was regretting his words. He remembered his thoughts of the night, wondering about Yassen's background, about the people he, too, had maybe lost.

Alex scrambled out of bed and then hesitated, wanting to go over to him but not quite liking to.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean - sorry." Alex picked up the cardboard container, prising the lid off and inhaling the steam appreciatively. He'd never really liked coffee before coming to America, had been forced to find an alternative to their upsetting excuse for tea.

"It's okay." Yassen came over, standing next to him without touching. They drank in silence for a while, looking out at the snowy carpark, until Yassen sighed.

"You know what? I've had enough snow. What do you say we head south again? Find some sun?"

Alex looked at him, a tentative smile on his face. "Might be a long way before we find that."

Yassen shrugged. "I don't have anywhere else to be. Besides, if I'm honest, I'd rather keep moving."

"Oh. Yeah." Alex had almost forgotten Yassen was technically a man on the run. "America's Most Wanted, right?"

Yassen laughed. "I don't know about that, but I'm sure to be on at least a couple of lists." He paused. "Something you should bear in mind, perhaps. Associating with me - may not be the healthiest thing you could do."

It was Alex's turn to shrug. "What will they do, lock me up for aiding and abetting? I don't care. Might be nice, prison," he said wistfully. "Just days on end where nobody expects anything of you."

Yassen looked at him, but Alex wouldn't meet his eyes. 

"They should never have used you like they did," Yassen said softly. "Not as young as you were."

"That was the point though, wasn't it." Alex did look up then, and there was a brittle edge to his voice. "And I wanted it, in the end. I wanted them to use me. That was the worst part. I thought I was _good_ at it."

"You were. Better than any of us," Yassen said mildly. 

"Not good enough though. Not good enough to save Jack."

"It wasn't your fault, Alex." 

Alex shook his head convulsively. "Let's just - not, okay? I'm going to take a shower, then let's just get out of here."

Yassen let him go.

\--

They took roads leading south and east, winding slowly out of the snowscape. Alex was mostly silent, other than to ask permission to turn the radio on. Music meant he didn't have to talk - or think. He'd spent a long time determinedly trying to block out the memories of what had happened, and while he was grateful to Yassen for wanting to help, Alex wasn't entirely sure he wanted to dredge it all up again. He'd already lived through it once, barely. Didn't know if he had the strength to examine it all again, even with the support of someone who might, unbelievably, actually understand.

Alex glanced covertly over at Yassen in the driver's seat. Wondering not for the first time why he was doing this. 

\--

Another night, another anonymous motel. Yassen let Alex book them in while he found a place to park in the crowded lot, and followed him to their allotted room.

"Oh." Alex fidgeted. "I, er. Asked for a twin. I'm sure I did. I meant to."

"Not like you," Yassen said neutrally, dropping his bag on the conspicuously double bed. "To get confused like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alex asked hotly, flushing to the roots of his hair and looking away.

Yassen watched him, considering. "It means, if, for whatever reason, you're more comfortable sharing a bed? Then I don't have a problem with that," he said quietly. "I'm just saying you don't have to lie about it."

Alex twisted his fingers together, anxiety and embarrassment making him hot all over. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just - I didn't dream, and I s'pose I thought - "

"Like I said. Not a problem." Yassen patted his shoulder. 

"You don't mind? Really? I know it's a bit - weird."

Yassen laughed. "Alex, I've bunked in some strange places with some stranger people, sharing a bed with you doesn't even come close to weird."

Alex finally gave a reluctant smile. "Thanks," he breathed. Unspeakably grateful, not just for the fact Yassen had seemingly taken it in his stride, but for the fact he hadn't made him explain.

\--

It was some time after two AM when Alex woke in a sweating mess, heart thumping and gasping for breath as the shreds of his dream fell away. Conscious of Yassen stirring next to him, Alex hit the pillow with a frustrated groan.

"Shit. _Shit._ "

"Alex - "

"It's not _fair._ "

Arms around him in the dark, reassuring warmth of Yassen's chest against his back. Guilty knowledge that this was what he'd had at the back of his mind when he'd asked on impulse for a double room, this once unlooked-for, unimagined comfort. But he'd had a hope, too, however faint, that he'd been right, that maybe the dreams had stopped. A vain hope, in the end.

Alex sagged, tension collapsing into resigned disappointment, and Yassen gently let him go. 

"What you went through. You're not going to get over it overnight," Yassen said softly. "Cut yourself some slack, okay?"

Alex turned onto his back with a sigh, pushing damp hair off his forehead. "It's not been a night though has it?" he said bleakly. "It's been over a year."

"And last night you came through without dreaming. And you'll do it again."

"Yeah." Alex sighed. "Sorry. For waking you up."

"Don't be." Yassen lay down, turning away onto his side but not moving out of Alex's space. After a second, Alex rolled onto his own side and gingerly let his back come to rest against Yassen's, relaxing by inches when he didn't object or move away. 

In this manner too they passed the following nights, sleeping back-to-back in the series of unfortunately patterned and badly sprung motel beds the road offered them. Alex continued to have bad dreams, but he found they were no longer every night and clung to this tiny glimmer of hope that things might be improving.

By day they drove without any destination in mind other than a vague bearing south. The landscape became flatter, the skies wider, and on the seemingly endless and empty roads Yassen occasionally let Alex drive instead, choosing to ignore that fact he was unqualified and uninsured. 

"You're perfectly competent, and it gives me a rest," was all he'd said. Alex suspected it was actually an unsubtle attempt to distract him from his worries, or to demonstrate that Yassen had confidence in him, and silently appreciated the gesture.

They learnt things about each other, almost by default. Yassen would work out most mornings, often going for a run afterwards, in which occasionally Alex would join him. Mostly though he slept in, arguing that it was only Yassen's propensity for getting up ridiculously early that made him look lazy. For the most part Yassen let him sleep, often returning before he woke.

Alex flatly refused to listen to classical music in the car, in revenge Yassen refused to let him watch trashy television in the motel rooms. They discovered a shared liking for Italian food, and a shared loathing for the saccharine taste of own-brand cola. 

Time passed. Alex wondered where Yassen's money was coming from, decided he didn't want to know. There were some things he couldn't bring himself to care about, and he wasn't going to risk their oddly peaceful state of being by asking awkward questions.

Alex had good days and bad days. Sometimes, when he'd slept without dreaming, he would wake up and smile, and make Yassen take random detours to points of interest he'd seen a sign for, or stop in tiny towns to drink hot chocolate and watch the locals watching them, laughingly speculating on which ones thought they were a couple.

Other days he'd wake in a black mood and barely speak all day, just letting Yassen drive while he curled into himself and concentrated on not crying. Days when he felt hollow inside and the thought of eating sickened him. 

Doubly afraid, on his lowest days, that Yassen would get fed up and leave him, because why wouldn't he, when everyone else had. 

Bad days fed into bad nights and Alex would wake with a jolt in the early hours, damp with sweat and chest heaving with tight panic. Times, now, where Yassen would simply roll over and slide an arm round him, hold Alex close against him for the rest of the night.

One more fear for Alex to contend with, that he was coming to depend on Yassen too much, afraid of what would happen when he inevitably ended up alone once more. 

Alex found himself mentally bracing himself, running imaginary arguments through his head until he was miserable and restless. 

Pushing away Yassen's concern, when all Alex wanted to do was cling to him.

\--

They'd been travelling south, stopping for the night outside a large-ish town. The weather had been bad, lashing rain and a feeling of pressure that made Alex's head ache. Both irritable, from the storm, from driving too long, from being alone in each other's company for such an extended period. Alex prickly, Yassen coming to the end of a remarkably patient tether. 

In a way, the only real surprise was that the argument hadn't happened before.

It started innocently enough, small things, snapping at each other over dinner, perceived slights and a lack of apologies. Alex throwing his fork down into the remains of his takeaway and hurling himself face down onto the bed.

"Just leave me alone."

"Oh, grow up."

"Excuse me?" Alex sat up again, hotly indignant. Yassen hadn't meant him to overhear his muttered exasperation, but now was stung into an ill-judged response.

"Stop behaving like a spoilt child."

"Well excuse me for not being a cold-hearted bastard like you."

"You're overwrought. Go to sleep."

"Overwrought? You have no fucking idea, do you?" Alex feeling tears pricking his eyes and hating himself for making an exhibition of himself, but unable to stop. "You don't have the first idea how it feels, to be me!"

"What, to have no family left? To have no friends to turn to? To have lost everyone you ever cared about? You think I don't know how that feels? You think you're that special?" Yassen shot back. He wasn't even shouting, just cold, hard, relentless. 

Alex spun round as if he'd been slapped, breathless sobs threatening to break out of him, managing to hold them in until he'd locked himself in the bathroom, turned on the shower to hide the noise.

Collapsing to the tiled floor, convinced that he'd finally broken the only thing he'd had left to hold on to. Convinced that Yassen must now surely hate him.

When he emerged, red-eyed and quiet, Yassen said nothing and they got ready for bed in an awkward silence, for the first time in many days lying at a distance from each other.

That night, Alex waited until Yassen was asleep, then slipped stealthily out of the bed. He dressed again quietly, hurriedly, and picked up his bag, alert the whole time for any change in Yassen's breathing, for any sign he was waking up. Part of Alex wanted him to, wanted Yassen to stop him doing this, to tell Alex he was wanted after all, to make him stay. 

Despite this, in the end he was just too careful, and even though Yassen was only a light sleeper at the best of times, he didn't stir as Alex let himself out of the door. Maybe it was a sign, Alex thought miserably. Time to go. Or, worse, Yassen had been awake the whole time, and just wanted to be rid of him.

Torturing himself with similar thoughts, Alex walked out of the motel and started off down the long, featureless road into town.

\--

Dawn found him trudging along one of the roads out of it again, thumbing in vain for a lift each time he was passed by one of the sporadic vehicles. He'd spent most of the night in a twenty-four hour cafe, too cold to stay on the street, and coming to realise just how little money he had left. Discovering he didn't have enough for a bus or train ticket, and having to trust to hitchhiking again.

Alex shivered, pulling his coat closer around him and settling his bag more comfortably on his shoulder. Yassen would be waking up about now, he realised. Wondered what he would think. Whether he would be angry, or relieved. Alex wishing now he'd left a note, but then, what could he have said? Thanks, and sorry, and goodbye. Like when he'd left the Pleasures' house. 

Running away, again. 

The sun climbed, drying off the road, and still nobody stopped to offer the lonely figure a lift. Alex was tired and footsore and hungry, and feeling decidedly sorry for himself when after several more hours a car finally pulled in ahead of him.

He looked up, half expecting them to have stopped for some other reason than his out-stretched thumb - and froze, as he recognised the car.

Hope and relief warring with anxiety inside him, Alex walked slowly up and opened the passenger door.

Yassen looked over at him, expression hidden behind sunglasses, voice neutral.

"Need a lift?"

Not angry, not judging him. Simply offering him the chance to come back. Or not, if he was really determined to go it alone. 

Alex's determination had died several miles down the highway, and he folded himself into the car without a word, shoving his bag into the back and buckling himself in.

Yassen moved back into the traffic with a smile, and Alex, warm and comfortable for the first time in hours, was asleep within minutes.

He woke when the car stopped, looking up blearily to find they were at a truck stop.

"You want anything?" As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Alex yawned. "Sandwich or something, I guess?"

Yassen nodded and got out, Alex reflecting how odd it was that they'd somehow spent enough time together now that Yassen no longer needed to ask his preferences for fillings.

He looked around at the vehicles coming and going around them, and briefly imagined himself going off in one of them. There would be drivers heading in all directions, getting a lift would be easy. He could effectively lose himself from here, if he so chose.

But he'd felt unexpectedly vulnerable, out on the road earlier, as if having started the process of opening himself up, now he was left too exposed, his carefully nurtured protective shell brittle and fractured. Yassen's car felt safe, familiar.

It wasn't long before Yassen was back, sliding into the driver's seat and handing him a bag. 

"Wasn't sure you'd still be here," he said, half-smiling. 

Alex had a sudden attack of paranoia, that maybe he'd been supposed to take the opportunity to leave. "Do you want me to go?"

Yassen just looked at him. "If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn't have spent half the morning looking for you."

"Really?" Alex stared at him in such surprise that Yassen laughed. 

"Did you think it was coincidence?"

Alex smiled back, feeling a little daft. "Luck, maybe," he confessed.

Yassen started the car. "I've been looking at the map. I think I know a good place for lunch."

Despite Alex's curious look, he would say nothing more. Twenty minutes later he pulled off the highway and drove down through the suburbs of what seemed just another dull town until he turned out onto a street that had a row of weathered houses along one side, and on the other, beyond a peeling white railing - 

"The sea!" Alex sat up in surprise.

"Technically, the Atlantic," Yassen said, pulling in and switching off the engine.

"Holy shit." Alex climbed out and Yassen followed him. They walked to the railing, looking down at the quiet swell below.

Alex tried to work out how long they'd been travelling since he'd left San Francisco on the west coast. Realised he'd lost track. Had it been two weeks? Three? _Four_? They'd meandered about so much, unhurried, taking back roads. He felt oddly dislocated from the real world, like they'd been somehow outside of time.

A few feet away, a large white pelican flapped to the railing and glared at them balefully.

"I'm sorry." Alex leaned on the rail, stared down into the water because it was better than having to meet Yassen's eyes. "For - for before."

"Why did you go?" Yassen asked quietly. "I'm not saying you have to stay with me, but - well, if you wanted to leave, I'd have hoped you felt able to say so."

"I don't. Want to leave you." Alex shook his head convulsively, and Yassen frowned.

"Then why the midnight flit?"

Alex gave a bitter laugh. "Thought it was best to go before I was pushed. Way I've been lately, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it, before you got sick of me. Hell, _I'm_ sick of me." 

"And who said I would ever get sick of you?" Yassen sighed. "I won't leave you, Alex. Not ever. Not if you want me around. You don't have to be afraid of that. No matter what happens."

"Why?" Alex asked, in a small voice. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Honestly?" Yassen sighed. "I'm not entirely sure." Alex looked at him accusingly, and he laughed, holding his hands up. "I mean it. I thought at first it was partly guilt."

"Guilt?" Alex sounded surprised, and Yassen wondered whether he hadn't thought him capable of feeling it.

"What happened to you. Arguably my fault. All of it," he said softly.

"Oh." Alex considered this for a while. "Bollocks was it," was his final assessment. "Rothman. Julius." He hesitated. "Ash. Their fault. Or mine, I suppose. Not yours." He looked up, shrewdly. "You said only partly guilt though?" 

Yassen nodded, slowly. "I just - I like you," he confessed, sounding a little helpless as if he didn't expect Alex to believe him, or accept it as a valid reason. "I want to help you. If I can. Even if that's just - being here. I'm not a psychologist, hell I'm probably not even a terribly well-balanced human being, but - well. There it is. If you need me, I'm - well, I'm here."

Alex laughed, low and rueful, but with genuine feeling. "We're both as fucked up as each other, is that what you're saying?"

"Maybe." Yassen smiled at him, and by mutual and unspoken consent they edged closer to each other, until their elbows were almost touching on the rail. Forgiveness, on both sides.

The water lapped against the sea wall beneath them, and the cold wind whipped Alex's hair across his face, making his eyes water.

"I've thought about ending it all. More than once." 

They'd been standing in silence for several minutes, looking out to sea, when Alex made his quiet confession. 

Yassen reached out hesitantly, unsure if Alex wanted physical contact. Let his arm settle around Alex's shoulders, and was touched when instead of pulling away as he'd half-expected, Alex leaned in to him.

"Mrs Pleasure had pills. Sleeping pills. From - before, I guess." Alex faltered, conscious of the fact the trauma she'd been through had been directly Yassen's fault. He wondered if it made him a bad person that he no longer gave a damn about that. Despite the fact she had offered him a home, a family, it was Yassen who offered him understanding, and he was clinging to that like a drowning man.

"I'd go into the bathroom, some weeks it would be every night. And I'd hold them in my hand, and I'd think about taking them. All of them. Just to make it stop."

Yassen said nothing, but he held Alex a little tighter, and nodded for him to continue, sensing this was the first time Alex had ever told anyone this, the first time he'd felt strong enough to, and wanting him to get it all out.

Alex sniffed, wiped his nose. "It helped. Is that weird? Knowing that if I wanted to, I could do it. Somehow it meant I could carry on, if I knew there was an option of not having to."

"It's not weird." Part of Yassen wanted to pull Alex into a full-body hug, to hold him and tell him it would be okay - but he knew that his detachment could well be what was allowing Alex to tell him this at all. And he was determined not to lie to him. _Would_ it be okay? He would help, if he could, if Alex would let him. But only Alex could decide the way it ended.

"You brought them with you?" 

Alex looked round, startled, and Yassen mentally kicked himself as he saw Alex wondering if he'd been through his bag.

"How did you know that?" Alex's voice shook a little, but there was no accusation in his tone.

Yassen shrugged. "If it's the way you were coping, you were unlikely to leave them behind. Given that running away from home like you did rather suggests you weren't coping," he added gently. "Was it getting worse?"

Alex nodded jerkily. "It felt like I was suffocating. Everyone was trying so hard to be 'normal' around me, that it felt so false. Like they were waiting for me to go batshit and machine-gun the lot of them or something."

"Hardly your style," Yassen conceded, and Alex gave a quiet laugh.

"Maybe not." He rested his head against Yassen's shoulder tiredly. "It - wasn't the first time," Alex said after a while, so quietly Yassen could barely hear him. "That I'd thought about it."

"No?" Yassen leaned his head against Alex's, a gesture of comfort, and the better to catch his words.

"If I'd done it when I first thought about it, Jack would still be alive," Alex whispered, closing his eyes. He'd never spoken this out loud before, and it felt like there was a lead weight in his chest.

"And how many thousand others would be dead if you hadn't been there to stop Scorpia?" Yassen asked. "How many countries in chaos?"

"I don't care." Alex turned, letting Yassen put his arms right around him, burying his face against his chest and not giving a damn how it looked.

"Alright then. Would you have wanted her to live with the knowledge you'd killed yourself?" Yassen murmured, holding him tight. "That whatever she'd done, it hadn't been enough? That she couldn't protect you?"

"Don't say that!" Alex looked up miserably, and Yassen held his gaze. 

"Would you really have wanted her to live with that?" 

"I wanted her to _live_. It still would have been better." Alex wrenched himself away, and went back to leaning on the rail. "Maybe you should have just killed me when we first met."

"Or you could just have taken my advice."

Yassen wondered if he'd gone too far, but the spluttering noise Alex made had been an appalled laugh rather than a sob. 

Alex turned back to him, calmer now. "What do I do, Yassen? How do I get through this?" he pleaded bleakly.

"You find a reason to carry on. A reason to get up in the morning. Anything at all. And it only has to be enough for one morning, and then you just - keep finding reasons. And one day, perhaps, you find something - or someone - that makes it worth it. That means you're not pretending any more." 

Alex considered this for a long while, then hesitantly looked up at him.

"I may be out of line but - you sound like you know what you're talking about."

"Yeah," Yassen admitted softly. "I've been there."

"How old were you?" 

"I was nineteen. And certain things - well, let's just say I felt life was no longer particularly worth living." 

"What did you do?"

Yassen hesitated, debating the wisdom of telling him the truth. Knowing it could never entirely be the whole truth, or all of his reasons behind it. 

"I took a gun. Six chambers, five bullets."

Alex stared at him, transfixed. "Did you - ?"

"Pull the trigger? Yes."

"Fuck," said Alex, feelingly. "You survived though. I mean - obviously, but - after that. Did you feel like you had a reason to live then? That you were meant to live?"

Yassen looked at him, and sighed, reminding himself he'd promised himself he wouldn't lie. "Honestly? I'm not so sure I did survive it. At least - the person I was, before that - I don't recognise him any more. I became a killer instead. A few seconds later, as it happens. That moment - changed my life. Ended it, maybe. I may still have been walking around and breathing, but I was dead inside."

"I don't believe that." Alex frowned, and after a second of internal debate, slipped his hand into Yassen's, who took it with a look of surprise. "I mean - if that was true - you wouldn't care about me. And you do, don't you?"

"Maybe more than I should," Yassen confessed, squeezing his hand.

They stood there a while longer, until it was Alex who shook himself and sighed. "There's a bench over there. What do you say we eat that lunch you bought?"

As Yassen walked over to the car, Alex started laughing, and he looked back enquiringly.

"And there's me with fucking sleeping pills. Trust you to be more hardcore."

\--

As the road unfurled before them, they finally spoke quietly of the past, of the things had made them what they were, had brought them to this place, somehow together. Yassen realised that for Alex to confide in him, he needed to know Yassen was willing to do the same. Reluctantly at first, but surprised at how easy it became as Alex accepted it all without judgement, Yassen told him things he'd never told another living soul, and in return Alex found the strength to start talking about his most buried and unconfronted fears. Little by little, they shared themselves.

They followed the coast for the most part, past marinas and retirement villages, nature reserves and sprawling city-ports. The weather became more humid, electrical storms frequently flickering overhead, rain lashing the windscreen. 

Neither of them minded it, and Alex even wondered aloud driving through one particularly bad storm if they both had a deathwish.

"Told you I wasn't healthy to be around," Yassen smiled, but Alex had shaken his head. 

"You make me feel it's okay to be alive," he'd said. And Yassen hadn't replied, but he'd taken Alex's hand across the console, and held it for as long as the traffic allowed.

\--

They entered Florida, hot, heavy scent of swampland mingling with brine blown in from the sea. Stopped in the first town they came to, stepping out into the humid afternoon. When Yassen declared he was going in search of a barber, complaining his hair was getting too long, Alex declined the pointed suggestion he should do the same and arranged to meet him afterwards to find a room, walking off alone.

There'd been something weighing on Alex's mind for a while now, something he hadn't spoken to Yassen about, and this was the first chance he'd had to do something about it. 

He found a phonebooth and stood there for a while, gathering his courage. He'd had no contact with the Pleasures since he'd left, had avoided thinking about the state he might have left them in by running away. Letting them know he was okay would be the right thing to do. Letting them know that he wasn't coming back.

Alex dialled the number from memory, listened to the phone ring in his ear, the width and depth of the country away. Belatedly trying to figure out the time difference.

He was about to hang up, both relieved and disappointed that apparently no-one was in, when suddenly it was answered.

"Hello?"

Alex swallowed. "Sab?"

" _Alex?_ "

"Yeah."

"Oh my god! Where are you? Are you okay? We thought - fuck Alex, we thought all kind of things!"

"Yeah. Sorry. I just - had to get away for a bit."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm - good, actually. I'm with - a friend." Not like he could ever tell her who. Sabina, who'd once been held prisoner, threatened, terrified by Yassen. No way she would ever understand.

"Who?" 

"Doesn't matter. Look, I just - I wanted to say sorry, okay? And just - let you all know I was okay."

"When are you coming home?"

Alex hesitated. "I'm not."

"Why not? Alex, what's going on? We've had the police looking for you and everything, we even had that dreadful Jones woman here - "

" _What?_ " Alex interrupted, suddenly cold. "Why?"

"Well we didn't know what had happened to you did we?" Sounding defensive, at Alex's accusing tone.

"I left a _note_!"

"Someone could have made you write it," she said obstinately. "Anyway, we were worried Alex. You weren't - "

"Weren't what?"

"Weren't right," she said quietly. "We were afraid what you might do. _I_ was afraid." 

Alex watched a police car turn into the street a junction down, and suddenly wondered if his call was right now being traced.

"I have to go. Sab - I'm sorry, okay. But I'm fine. Tell everyone that would you? Tell them - tell them not to look for me."

"Alex, wait - "

He hung up, Sabina's voice echoing in his head. What had he done? He had to find Yassen.

\--

"Hey." Yassen stepped out of the barber shop to find Alex arriving out of breath on the doorstep. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Alex cringed internally, wondering how the hell to tell Yassen he'd been that stupid. The same police car - or was it another one? - cruised past and he bit his lip. "Look, can we move on? I don't like it here. Let's keep moving for a bit, find somewhere better?"

"Okay?" Yassen frowned at him, but followed him back to the car without further comment.

Alex thought there were at least some advantages to having developed a reputation for mood swings, in that Yassen seemed inclined to indulge his impulsive requests with a minimum of questioning.

They were soon back on the highway and Alex relaxed a fraction. He ran over things in his mind, thinking back over their weeks on the road. If someone was looking for them - for him - they'd probably inadvertently done the best thing possible, travelling more or less at random along minor roads, with no real destination in mind. 

Alex hadn't used his bank card recently, had withdrawn all his readily available cash when he left for exactly that reason, that he didn't want to be traced, but he had used his ID when booking in to a couple of the motels along the way. At least Yassen's was under a false name.

He looked sideways at him, knowing he should tell him the whole story. It didn't matter either way if they caught up with Alex, not really - it was Yassen he was putting at risk. Alex watched him driving, realising for the first time how his appearance was tailored to be unremarkable. Hair short but not military-short, clothes casual but not scruffy, muted colours. No jewellery other than an inexpensive watch. 

Looking objectively at him, it came as a surprise to Alex to realise that if you didn't know Yassen, you'd barely give him a second look. Because to Alex, the very image of him seemed to burn in his mind's eye with an intensity that surely everyone else should see. He wondered if he was cracking up, and sighed.

"Something wrong?" Yassen enquired.

"No?" Alex hastily looked away, back out at the road through the bug-flecked windscreen.

"Sure?" Yassen glanced at him. "You did seem to be staring at me rather pointedly." He smiled. "It's not the hair, is it? Don't tell me they haven't cut it straight."

Alex looked round automatically. "Nah, it's fine. You did want a pink bow in the back, right?"

"First thing I asked for," Yassen agreed, and they laughed. 

Another mile passed, until Alex said quietly, "I think I've fucked up."

Yassen kept his eyes on the road. "Okay. Can you tell me?"

Alex sighed. "I think I have to." He related the whole conversation with Sabina, grateful that Yassen didn't interrupt. When he was done, he squirmed round in the seat to face him, looking anxious. "What do you think?"

Yassen was quiet for a moment. "I wish you'd told me what you were going to do. But it's done now, so there's no point in recriminations. Honestly, I think it's unlikely they were tracing the call, it's been a month since you left and the local force have probably shoved you to the back of the interest pile by now, particularly as you left a note." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, considering. "The fact that your Mrs Jones has been involved, that worries me a little."

"She's not _my_ Mrs Jones," Alex objected, and Yassen conceded the point with a tilt of his head.

"I just hope she doesn't choose to put together the fact of your disappearance with my continued absence from the justice system. Singly we don't stand out, together we may be slightly more remarkable. Although she has no reason to suppose I'm in America."

"What do we do?" Alex forced down the squirming knot of fear in his stomach that Yassen would say they had to part ways. Yassen had promised he'd be there as long as Alex needed him, and he had to start trusting someone at some point.

"Assuming you want to stay with me? Longer term, I mean?" Yassen looked at him quickly. They'd never discussed the future, or what they might do when they ran out of road.

"Yes." Alex nodded hastily. 

"Then to start with I think we should get you some different ID. And - how old are you now, sixteen? I think we should make you eighteen at least, it'll make things easier perhaps."

"Okay." Some of the knots untangled a little. Alex was relieved Yassen was taking it all so calmly, working things through methodically. But then, he must have been in similar situations half his life. "I'm sorry Yassen. I didn't think."

Yassen shook his head. "It'll be alright. Don't worry about it." He gave him a smile, that Alex did his best to return. Don't worry. Easier said than done.

\--

They eventually stopped in a fishing port, taking a room overlooking the ocean. Alex found it calming, staring out at the limitless expanse of water, and he threw the windows open, listening to the distant hush of waves on the shore. The sun had almost gone down by the time they'd booked in, and there was just a lingering glow of reflected light over everything.

Several hours later, when Yassen woke in the middle of the night to discover he was alone in the bed, he was relieved to find Alex standing again at the open window, briefly afraid that he'd run off again. 

Yassen padded barefoot across the room, joining Alex at the window. Instinctively sliding his arms around him from behind, about Alex's waist. These small intimacies of comfort always seemed easier in the semi-dark.

"Can't sleep?" Yassen murmured. 

Alex shook his head. "Can't stop thinking about things."

"You worry too much." 

"Well let me know if you find a way to magically make me stop," Alex retorted, but a little of the anxiety eased as he leaned back against Yassen's chest. 

"You're doing fine." Yassen assured him, and Alex sighed.

"Doesn't feel like it, sometimes," he admitted.

Yassen came to a decision, turning Alex with a hand on his shoulder. "Come here," he offered, and folded Alex into his arms properly. 

"I'm sorry," Alex said, voice muffled by Yassen's shoulder.

"What for?"

"Being so weak. I never used to be this - useless."

"Neither are words that have ever occurred to me, where you're concerned. And even if that's how you see it, why should you need to apologise?"

Alex gave a quiet huff of laughter, turning his face to rest his cheek against Yassen's shoulder. "You managed to get through all the shit life threw at you without needing to be held every night," he pointed out.

"Maybe if I'd had someone to do that I wouldn't have spent the next fifteen years killing people for money," Yassen countered, and Alex wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not. He slid his own arms around Yassen's waist and hugged him, just in case.

Yassen smiled, taken by surprise. There'd never really been a time that he'd been this emotionally close to someone, and he didn't think either he or Alex had ever looked for or expected it to become this physical. But if he was honest with himself, the comfort to be derived from lying next to Alex at night, from holding him like this? It wasn't all one way.

Alex was almost nestling against him now. Yassen's thumb was rubbing against the top of his spine, grazing through the hair at the nape of his neck, and Alex felt a flush of warmth spread through his body. It felt good, and he made a quiet noise of appreciation, prompting a low laugh from Yassen.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Feels nice," Alex admitted. 

Yassen brought his hands to rest on Alex's shoulders, gently kneading the tension out of his muscles, and Alex gave a shuddering sigh. 

"I could do this better if you lay down?" Yassen offered.

"You're not going to put my legs behind my head or something are you?" Alex asked suspiciously. "I've seen those videos."

Yassen laughed. "Nothing so drastic. I'll be gentle, I promise. And it might help you sleep."

Alex let Yassen lead him back to the bed, and lay down. Yassen settled at his side, switching the lamp on.

"Can we take this off?" Yassen asked, indicating the shirt Alex had been sleeping in.

"Yeah. I - I guess." Alex peeled it off and lay back down.

Yassen glanced down at him, and went still. Alex's back was a mess of old scars, some so deep the skin itself was ridged, running down from his shoulders to his lower back. Alex had told him some of the things that had happened to him, but it had never occurred to Yassen until that moment, that in all this time he'd never seen Alex without his shirt on. He'd always changed in the bathroom, or when Yassen was out of the room. Yassen had assumed it was a desire for privacy and had let it go without comment. He'd had no idea Alex had been hiding something like this.

He let his fingers come to rest on the scar tissue, following the lines gently. 

"What did this?"

It was the wrong thing to do, Alex snatching back his t-shirt self-consciously and sitting up.

"Forget it. I'm hideous, I know."

"Alex." Yassen tried to pull the shirt away from where it was bunched in Alex's arms. "You're not hideous. I just - I'm sorry. I hadn't appreciated how - how bad it must have been."

Alex's lips twisted in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Told you."

Yassen sighed. The pain involved in something that left scars like that - it must have been unimaginable. 

"Forgive me?" 

"What for?" Alex gave a harsh, nervous laugh. "I'm the one looks like a freak show."

"No. You're beautiful Alex."

The laugh this time was one of surprise, and the smile was almost genuine amusement. "Bollocks am I."

"Are the scars really all you can see?"

"Pretty sure they're all anyone else would."

"Well. I'm not anyone. I hope?" Yassen finally managed to catch his eye. "Got plenty of my own, if it comes to that."

"Yeah. Well." Alex looked like he might be relenting, and Yassen drew the shirt carefully out of his hands. 

"Lie down," Yassen told him, almost under his breath. A second's more resistance and Alex did as he was told, allowing Yassen to stroke warm hands over his back without further objection.

Yassen let his fingers seek out the stiffness in Alex's shoulders, working out the knots from his tense frame until, by grudging inches, Alex slowly relaxed under his hands.

Almost despite himself, Alex felt his eyelids drooping as he surrendered to the soothing motion of the hands on his back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let anyone see him without a shirt on, let alone get this up close and personal with his hated burn marks, but somehow Yassen was different.

The uncomfortable thought that Yassen had probably been responsible for inflicting similar scars on any number of people in his time passed through Alex's mind, and he pushed it away hurriedly. He'd seen Yassen kill a man without a second thought, he _knew_ what he was capable of. It just made this, the fact he was also capable of such unimagined gentleness, all the more remarkable. 

On the edge of drifting off completely, Alex blinked himself awake and rolled over, not wanting to just fall asleep without a word. 

"Okay?" Yassen smiled down at him, and Alex laughed.

"Yeah. Wow. That was - " A yawn took him by surprise, and he sat up. Looked at Yassen consideringly. "So. Go on then."

"What?"

"Well, you've seen mine. Now show me yours," Alex teased. "Bet you mine are worse."

"Perhaps." Yassen shrugged, laughing, and lifted his top off obligingly. Sat quite still, as Alex looked him over with a shy kind of intensity.

Alex was vaguely aware that he'd witnessed Yassen changing his shirt before, but he'd never paid much attention. Now, he reached out with hesitant fingers and touched the knot of pale scar tissue on Yassen's chest.

"That was my fault," he said softly.

Yassen lifted his own hand, covered Alex's, holding it against his heart for a second.

"Hardly. Or are you so intent on assuming responsibility for everything in the world?"

Alex smiled, conceding the point, and curled his fingers around Yassen's for a moment before pulling back. He looked down, seeking out the scar above his own heart, a darker blemish on his pale skin. 

"We match," Alex whispered. 

"So we do." 

There'd been a day, a week or so back now, when they'd discussed the coincidental fact they both had thin scars slicing across the side of their neck. Alex's, the result of a near miss from a bullet in Australia; Yassen's from another bullet, this time in well-meant circumstances Alex had made him relate at least four times, at the hands of Alex's father.

It hadn't occurred to him that they matched in other places, too. Both victim to separate shots to the heart, both almost dying. 

"So." Alex looked up brightly, hoping to change the subject away from near-death experiences. "When was the last time anyone gave you a massage?" He reached out to rest a hand on Yassen's shoulder, fingers kneading lightly.

Yassen shrugged. "I've never been big on strangers touching me, to be honest."

"Oh. Sorry." Alex snatched his hand away, but Yassen just looked at him. 

"You're hardly a stranger," he smiled, slowly. "And I guess I could make an exception."

Alex smiled back, pleased and oddly flattered. "Lie down then."

Yassen did as he was directed, and Alex let his hands come to rest lightly on Yassen's back.

"I should warn you I don't actually know what I'm doing," Alex said.

"Follow your instincts," Yassen told him, stretching out on the bed. "Your hands will find what to do."

Alex bit his lip, and started smoothing his hands across Yassen's skin. He explored the planes of his back, fingers finding the harder cords of muscle, finding that it did come to him, the feeling of where to press, where to push in gently with his thumbs, how to work methodically downwards, neck, shoulders, shoulderblades, spine, hips. 

As he worked, Alex studied the history written in Yassen's skin. He didn't have nearly as many scars as Alex, or so bad, but still the telltale marks were there, of old pain, and survival. There was what looked like a knife mark beneath his right shoulder, a longer whip-like slash running diagonally up his side, and across his lower back a line of tiny white stars that looked to Alex like they'd been caused by barbed wire.

His hands slowed, caught up with wondering what the stories were that went with these. Wanting to ask but not liking to, knowing if Yassen had pressed him on the subject of his own, it would have made him too self-conscious. He was enjoying too, the feeling of Yassen's warm body under his hands, and allowed himself a moment of wondering what it would feel like for Yassen to hold him like this, chest to chest. 

Caught up in his own thoughts Alex had almost stopped the massage, and thinking he'd finished Yassen rolled over and made to sit up. Taken by surprise, Alex pitched forward into his arms and they stared at each other, startled eyes barely inches apart. 

The moment stretched out, neither immediately moving away, searching each other's face as if for the answer to a question they weren't sure of. So close, Alex could feel Yassen's breath against his lips, could feel the rise and fall of his chest. He swallowed, fingers grazing Yassen's shoulder, unable to take his eyes off Yassen's mouth, his parted lips.

It was Yassen though, who broke the tension, clearing his throat and moving back, letting Alex regain his balance.

"We should - probably get some sleep."

Alex closed his eyes, hot relief mingling with something else - disappointment? 

"Yeah." Alex realised how hard he was breathing, realised too how close he'd just come to making a complete arse of himself. 

Yassen turned off the lamp, and this time when they lay down to sleep they were somehow not quite touching. As Alex slid quietly into a doze, his last waking thought was to almost hope for nightmares, that would surely make Yassen gather him back into his arms.

\--

The following morning Alex woke to find Yassen was already up and dressed, and apparently in a taciturn mood. He said little over breakfast, and remained mostly silent as they resumed their meandering journey south.

For the most part Alex didn't mind. He was preoccupied with thoughts of his own, and was entirely happy to sit staring out of the window, letting Yassen drive. There had frequently been days along the way when they didn't talk much, albeit normally from Alex's own need for peace, and so he didn't think anything of it until he followed Yassen into their room for the next night and found it held two single beds.

Alex frowned, setting his bag down on the closest with hands that were suddenly unaccountably shaking, wondering if he'd missed something, if Yassen's silence was masking something deeper.

"Yassen? Are you mad at me?" he asked tentatively, half-afraid of the answer, but needing to know. To his relief Yassen looked surprised, but there was also a shadow of something else there that looked almost like guilt.

"No? Why would you think that?" 

"You've hardly said two words to me all day. That's quiet even for you. And then - twin room," Alex said quietly, gesturing to the beds.

Yassen groaned inwardly. He hadn't stopped to think that Alex might take this as a rebuke.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it through." Not like him. Yassen shook his head, annoyed with himself at not allowing for how fragile Alex's self-esteem was right now. The last thing he'd wanted to do was make things worse. Exactly, in fact, what he'd been trying to avoid.

Alex was watching him curiously. "What's up?"

"I just - I don't think we should share a bed any more."

"Why not?" Alex blinked at him in surprise and not a little hurt. 

Yassen gestured helplessly, searching for words. "I'm sorry. I just don't think it's a good idea. Not - long term."

"You still haven't told me why." Alex walked closer, realising to his surprise that Yassen actually looked edgy. He'd never known him be anything other than calmly determined, and it was oddly comforting to think that there might be some things that actually got under his skin.

Maybe, the same things that had been preoccupying Alex all day.

"Is it because of last night?" Alex asked quietly, and Yassen visibly flinched.

"Nothing happened last night." Yassen started unpacking his bag, turning things methodically out onto the other bed, refusing to meet Alex's eyes. 

"No. No, it didn't," Alex agreed softly. "So why are you avoiding me?"

"How am I avoiding you?" Yassen asked exasperatedly, still not looking at him. "I'm right here."

Alex stood there and watched him, weighing up the options. His instincts had rarely let him down, and what they were telling him right now was everything he wanted to be true - but if he was mistaken he could end up losing it all - even Yassen's friendship.

But then, he'd always been willing to take the big risks.

Deciding direct action was more expressive than a drawn out argument, Alex reached out and grabbed Yassen's arm, pulled him round to face him and before Yassen could speak, had planted a hard kiss on his mouth.

Alex fell back a pace and they stared at each other in mutual shock at what he'd done.

"If I'm wrong I'm so screwed," Alex whispered. Then, when Yassen still didn't speak, ventured hesitantly, "Am I wrong?"

"Alex." Yassen breathed his name, shaking his head slowly with a look that was stricken and guilty, and yet somehow full of longing.

Alex relaxed a fraction. His biggest fear had been that Yassen would push him away in disgust, and that he hadn't spoke volumes.

"It's okay." Alex gave him a tentative, hopeful smile, thinking how strange it was for him to be the one reassuring Yassen for once. "To want me."

"No, no it isn't." Yassen shook his head, but he still hadn't moved away, in fact was grasping Alex's arms with both hands, barely aware he was doing it. 

"Why not?" Alex murmured, moving closer, letting his own hands come to rest on Yassen's chest. 

"I would be - taking advantage of you. You're so young, Alex, and you've been through so much." 

"I don't feel young. Not inside. You know that."

"I know." Yassen seemed to realise how tightly he was gripping Alex and relaxed, pulling him into a hug instead. "Too many people have used you. I don't want to be another one."

"You wouldn't be." Alex kissed him again, just a light brush of lips against Yassen's mouth. "I want this. I want _you_ ," he said, quietly insistent.

Yassen sighed, resting his forehead against Alex's. "It would still be wrong."

"I don't care." Alex put his arms round Yassen's neck, and for a while they just stood there, holding on to each other. 

"Do _you_ want this?" Alex asked after a while, wondering if, after all, Yassen was just trying to find a way of letting him down gently. Wishing that for once he could get through a day without second-guessing himself.

"God help me, yes." Yassen's whispered admission was enough to make Alex weak with relief.

"I shouldn't - " Yassen's protest was cut off by Alex's mouth, and this time he couldn't help returning the pressure of the warm lips against his own. 

"You don't give up, do you?" Yassen protested, half-laughing. Alex looked innocent.

"You told me not to," he replied, and this time Yassen did laugh.

"This wasn't quite what I had in mind." Yassen pulled back a little and looked at him. "Alex - is this truly what you want?"

Alex nodded. "Yes. Although, I don't think I realised until last night. Suddenly - I wanted you to kiss me more than anything in the world."

"I almost did," Yassen confessed softly.

"I know." Alex smiled. "In a way I'm glad you didn't. Not then. I needed to sort it all out in my head. I've been thinking about it all day. Suddenly a lot of things made a whole lot more sense. I thought - maybe, tonight, we could figure something out. But then - "

"Twin room," Yassen said, and Alex laughed.

"Yeah."

Yassen shook his head. "I never claimed to know what I was doing." 

"Well. Guess I forgive you." Alex leaned in, and this time Yassen kissed him back, a chaste press of lips slowly becoming something deeper, more intimate. 

When they finally broke off from a long, lingering kiss, Yassen sighed. "This is so wrong, Alex. On so many levels."

"Doesn't feel wrong. Feels right. Feels like I've been waiting my whole life for this." 

"Oh, a whole five minutes?" Yassen couldn't resist needling, and Alex snorted. Before he could form a suitable retort, his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, and he blushed.

"You want to get something to eat?" Yassen asked. Alex hesitated. Part of him didn't want to let this moment go, afraid of letting it slip through his fingers. On the other hand, they hadn't stopped for lunch, and now the tension of the moment had eased somewhat, he realised he was starving. The idea that they could maybe do this thing, and still carry on as normal around it, was very appealing.

"Yeah. Actually, I wouldn't mind?" Alex confessed, and Yassen smiled.

"Good. Come on then, let's go and find something." He hugged Alex close before letting him go, leaving him smiling in grateful surprise.

\--

When they returned to the room a couple of hours later, Alex felt his nerves returning. They'd talked of neutral things over dinner, and now they were getting ready for bed in the same way they always did, and he was afraid Yassen intended to forget the whole thing.

Coming out of the bathroom though, he found Yassen sitting on one of the beds with the covers turned back, watching him.

"So. Coming in with me?" Yassen offered quietly, and Alex felt a smile creeping across his face that almost harboured a threat of tears. He crossed the room to where Yassen was holding out his arms, and sank into them with a tiny whimper of relief.

"Hey." Yassen held him tight, stroking his hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, face buried in his shoulder. "Sorry. I just - sorry." He felt Yassen press a kiss to the side of his head, and closed his eyes in a brief prayer of thanks to whoever was listening.

Alex sat up and took a deep breath. "Sorry," he said again, and Yassen laughed. 

"You say that a lot."

"I spend a lot of time being a twat."

"I beg to differ." Yassen studied him closely, and seemed to be satisfied with whatever he saw in Alex's face. "You still want - "

"Yes," Alex interrupted, and Yassen smiled at him, surrendering.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Okay." 

The kiss that followed was warm, and slow, and natural, and lasted a long time. When it ended, Alex wriggled under the covers next to Yassen, laughing as they jostled for space.

"Can't we push the beds together?" Alex asked.

"I think they're bolted down."

"What? What kind of shit hotel screws their furniture to the floor?"

"This one apparently." Yassen lay down and bodily moved Alex into a less annoying position. "I can certainly think of several nicer places I'd like to take you."

"Oh yeah?" Alex raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Yassen laughed.

"Yeah," he echoed softly, and kissed Alex with a slow deliberation.

Alex quickly decided that being tucked into a single bed with Yassen was infinitely better than merely sharing a double. Not only that, but being plastered up against his body like this was a virtual anatomy lesson. Despite the fact they were both wearing t-shirts, Yassen in loose pyjama trousers and Alex in his boxers, in this position there was little left to the imagination.

"You can fuck me. If you want," Alex muttered, blushing self-consciously.

Yassen bit back a laugh. "How romantic."

Alex poked him in the side with a bony finger, laughing himself. "I'll believe a lot of things about you. That you're a secret romantic isn't one of them."

"Perhaps not," Yassen conceded with a smile. "Still. I think we should take things slowly, okay? Let's just see what happens." He kissed Alex again, holding him close. "There's no rush."

"Yeah, okay." Alex sighed sleepily, with more than a touch of secret relief. "I was just saying."

"Noted." Yassen smiled as Alex was caught by a yawn. "Why don't you get some sleep? I'm not going anywhere."

Alex wanted to protest, still assailed by the unreasonable fear that if they didn't seize the opportunity to make the most of things right now, that life would somehow get in the way. But he was yawning again, exhausted from the tension of the day. Yassen's arms were warm and reassuring, and Alex's eyelids were soon drooping.

It wasn't long before they were both asleep; tender, exploratory kisses in the dark finally giving way to heavy limbs and dreamless, peaceful drowsing.

\--

Alex opened his eyes the next morning to find Yassen watching him with a look of fond amusement. As Yassen stretched the arm that Alex had been asleep on, Alex surreptitiously wiped his mouth in case he'd been drooling, and wondered how long Yassen had been lying there without moving, so as not to wake him up. Alex smiled with a sudden rush of unaccustomed happiness.

"Morning," he said, and Yassen kissed him. 

"Morning." Yassen slid his arms round Alex's waist and pulled him round until he was lying sprawled on top of him, giggling.

"Hello." Alex smiled down at him and kissed him again, speculatively. It was a novel feeling, knowing that he could theoretically kiss Yassen whenever he wanted to, and an opportunity he intended to make the most of.

Lazy kisses became gradually more heated, until Alex could feel Yassen getting hard. Equally aroused and too turned on to be overly self-conscious, Alex rubbed slowly against him, enjoying the way it made Yassen tighten his hold on him, pushing up into the slow grind of his body.

Their kisses became fiercer, open mouthed and demanding, stripping off their tops in fumbling haste, the better to touch each other. Snatching ragged breaths between kisses, and finally giving in to the impulse to simply rut up against each other.

"Is this okay?" Yassen breathed, lips moving against Alex's, not wanting to break contact even for a moment.

Alex smiled, nodding breathlessly. "Rather have you on top of me," he whispered, embarrassed as soon as the words were out, but Yassen had flipped them over in the space of a second, until he was covering Alex's body with his own. Alex groaned in pleasure, feeling Yassen's erection sliding against his own through the layers of cotton. They kissed again, desperate and messy, thrusting against each other in earnest now, recognising that they'd gone beyond simply making out and that they both wanted to come.

Alex was gasping for breath, almost there, and grabbed a handful of Yassen’s pyjama bottoms, pulling him across into just the place he needed him.

Yassen let himself be manoeuvred, taking the hint. 

"There?" he asked quietly, without letting up the movement of his hips.

"Yeah. God. _Fuck_." Alex's head pressed back against the pillows, neck straining as Yassen redoubled his efforts until suddenly Alex was coming, spilling into his boxers with a helpless shuddering pleasure.

Yassen went still, and Alex felt him come seconds later, a tremor running through the skin beneath Alex's hands and a creeping wetness against his leg.

They collapsed against each other, breathing hard and holding each other tight, laughing. 

"Fuck," Alex repeated, shakily. It seemed to be the only word his brain could form right now, certainly the only one that conveyed how he was feeling.

"You alright?" Yassen kissed his temple, conscious of the fact Alex was still shaking slightly in his arms.

"Yeah," Alex smiled, and then for good measure added another " _fuck_."

Yassen snorted with laughter, relaxing. "You're easily pleased."

"Hey!" Alex giggled, then made a face. "Ugh. I'm all sticky."

"Mmn. Me too." Yassen pulled the clinging material away from his groin with a wince of distaste. "What do you say we get a shower and get out of here. Find somewhere a little - fancier?"

"With a double bed?" Alex enquired, grinning, and Yassen smirked.

"Maybe even one that's not screwed to the floor."

\--

They were out in the Florida Keys now, surrounded by water. A hundred miles of bridges and islands flowing past, and they let the windows down to breathe in the sea air.

Stopping for lunch, they sat beneath palm trees, overlooking sparkling blue water. Alex looked up at the fronds waving overhead, and thought about how far he'd come in the last couple of weeks since he was surrounded by pines and snow. He leaned against Yassen's shoulder, and sighed.

"I don't want this to end."

Yassen looked round, enquiringly. "Who says it has to?"

"We're going to run out of dry land pretty soon," Alex laughed.

"We could always start swimming."

"All the way to South America?"

"Why not?" Yassen laughed at Alex's expression. "Well, I was thinking more of taking the car. But yes, I had been - considering - our next move."

"Of course you had." Alex shook his head. What part of him had imagined Yassen wouldn't be two steps in front? "So what's the plan?"

"I thought we could - slide down through Mexico and the rest, pick up a boat maybe. I've got contacts in Colombia. Could get us a yacht. How do the South Seas grab you?"

"What, like our own desert island?" Alex smiled.

"If you want. It would certainly keep us out of circulation for a while. And then - who knows. We don't have to stop there. Could keep going, if you like. Right round the world. Nothing to stop us." Yassen looked sideways at him. "If you wanted, anyway. Just an idea."

Alex kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah," he breathed. "Sounds good to me." Yassen put an arm round him, and Alex wriggled closer. "Just us, yeah?"

"Just us," Yassen promised. "For as long as you want."

\--

By late afternoon they were booked into a hotel so upmarket that Alex felt self-consciously scruffy. He'd been wearing the same few sets of clothes for weeks now, and was starting to look a bit worn at the edges.

Following Yassen to their suite on the first floor, Alex stared in amazement at what was possibly the biggest bed he'd ever seen and pushed his hands into his pockets, half-afraid that if he touched anything he'd leave dirty marks on it. 

Yassen though, looked as comfortable in these surroundings as he did anywhere else, and Alex felt a small spike of jealousy at the way he never seemed thrown by anything. It occurred to him that perhaps this was more the standard of living that the Russian had been used to. After all, he must have been paid a pretty high rate for the things he did, Alex reasoned. 

For a moment, Alex felt like he was out of his depth and sinking. Then he considered the fact that for some time at least, Yassen wouldn't have had any money coming in at all, and probably little access to whatever he'd had saved before his capture. And he'd been paying for almost everything since Alex had joined him. 

Alex twisted his fingers together anxiously, wondering which was worse, to feel like he was a kept man or a draining burden.

"Can we afford this?" Alex asked finally, belatedly wincing at the unconscious use of 'we'.

Yassen just nodded. "For the moment." He finally noticed Alex had barely moved from the spot since they entered the room, and came over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"I - yeah. It's amazing. I just - don't want to be using up all your money or whatever."

Yassen pulled him into a hug. "There's plenty for now. And when it runs out? I guess I'll just have to get a job." He leaned back far enough to catch Alex's eye. "An honest one. I promise."

Alex gave him a reluctant smile. "I've got quite a bit, but I can't really touch it until I'm twenty one," he said, but Yassen shook his head.

"We'll get by. Surviving seems to be something we both have a knack for, after all." 

Alex nodded, leaning into him as Yassen stroked his back comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered. "I should be on top of the world right now. I don't even know why I get like this."

"You can always talk to me," Yassen told him quietly. "If you're worrying about something. You don't have to deal with it alone any more." 

Alex swallowed, looking up pleadingly. "Just - don't let me fuck this up," he begged under his breath. "Because sooner or later, I'm going to do something, or say something, or - or not say something - and make everything go to hell. Because that's what I do."

"No, you won't. It'll be okay," Yassen reassured him. "Trust me."

"I do. I just - I don't trust _me_."

Yassen cupped his cheek, holding his gaze. "I do," he said softly.

Alex tried to smile, pinching together lips that threatened to tremble with emotion, and Yassen gathered him close again, letting Alex bury his face against his shoulder.

"It'll be okay," Yassen murmured. "I promise. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."

\--

They spent until dusk wandering in the grounds, exploring the shoreline and enjoying the chance to stretch their legs for once. Alex had initially assumed that Yassen wouldn't be overly keen to display their developing relationship in public, but he proved entirely willing to hold Alex's hand all the way back into the hotel.

Dinner was taken on the outside terrace, shades of sunset giving way to the twinkling of tiny flames as waiters moved smoothly between the tables lighting candles. The meal of simple fresh fish and sorbet was like heaven after weeks of takeaways eaten on the move, and as they lingered over good coffee afterwards, Alex let his foot slide against Yassen's calf.

"Candlelit dinner eh? Trying to get into my pants?" Alex murmured teasingly, his spirits rising again after their peaceful afternoon.

Yassen looked at him over the rim of his cup and bit back a laugh. "Is it working?"

"To be honest you pretty much had me at hello." Alex leaned back in his chair, feeling Yassen's foot returning the pressure under the table.

"In that case." Yassen set the cup down carefully in its saucer and smiled. "Early night?"

\--

The bed was as good as it looked, a vast expanse of soft pillows and cool linen that felt practically erotic it its own right against their bare skin. 

It was the first time they'd been completely naked together, but Alex felt no trace of nerves as they lay in each other's arms, kissing with a slow, intense heat.

They were both shamelessly hard, and to Alex it was almost a relief, reassurance that Yassen really did want him like this, wasn't just going along with it because Alex needed him to.

Alex writhed against him, perpetually caught between laughing and gasping as Yassen's hands moved over his body, caressing and tormenting in equal measure. 

When Yassen started kissing his way down Alex's stomach, he almost stopped breathing altogether in anticipation. Sure enough, the soft touch of lips against his skin didn't stop there but carried on down, pressing into the curls of hair at his groin, then against the side of his rigid shaft, before a final kiss seamlessly became a warm, wet mouth around the head of his cock.

Alex clawed at the sheets, air hitting his lungs again in a ragged intake of breath as Yassen sucked down on him, hands stroking his thighs, his hips, his balls. Alex bucked instinctively into the touch, as Yassen's mouth worked him with eager and relentless attention.

Biting down on his lip to stop the swear words tumbling out, Alex felt himself unravelling at a helpless speed. The combined sensations of Yassen's mouth and fingers was too much to withstand for long, and Alex finally let himself come, whole body tensed in orgasm, groaning in loud completion as he felt Yassen swallowing around him.

When Alex had subsided back against the pillows in weak exultation, Yassen crawled back up the bed to lie next to him, smirking a little and wiping lips that were slick with more than saliva. 

"Hey." 

"Hey." Alex kissed him, tongue sliding insistently into Yassen's mouth, curious to taste himself.

"You, uh. Want me to return the favour?" Alex offered when they broke off again. He was acutely aware Yassen was still hard against him, and faintly worried that he wouldn't be able to match his ability.

"You don't have to. It's not compulsory." Yassen smiled and kissed him again, slowly, but Alex pulled back and frowned a little. 

"I _do_ have to," he protested.

"Alex - "

"No. I don't want this to be just - you being _careful_ of me, or only making _me_ feel good. I want you too Yassen, as much as you want me. I want to touch you, taste you, be - be dirty for you." Alex flushed red but he didn't break Yassen's gaze, and watched the movement of his throat as Yassen swallowed, hard.

"Well. If you insist. In that case, you have my whole hearted approval. And my undivided attention," Yassen said throatily, and Alex gave a shaky laugh. 

"What _do_ you want?" Alex asked, kissing his neck.

"Right now? I just want you to make me come," Yassen confessed, taking Alex's hand and placing it deliberately on his cock.

"Now who's easily pleased?" Alex whispered, making him laugh. 

Alex wrapped his fingers around Yassen's erection, turned on all over again by the way it felt, warm and hard in his palm. He started jerking him off, firm and fast, and it was Yassen's turn to give a surprised groan. There was nothing hesitant about the way Alex was stroking him and Yassen pushed greedily into his hand, already close and knowing it wasn't going to take much of this to make him lose it.

Alex concentrated intently on what he was doing, fascinated by the way it felt to be doing this to someone other than himself, loving the way he could feel Yassen's pulse throbbing under his fingers. He sensed the change in Yassen's body as he neared his climax, the way his stomach muscles tensed and his breathing got faster, and Alex pumped harder until Yassen gave a stifled moan and came in long thick spurts over his stomach.

Alex resisted the temptation to run his wet fingers through the mess, instead just smiled down at Yassen with a certain amount of satisfaction. 

"Would it be greedy to add 'every night for the rest of my life' to that instruction about making me come?" Yassen asked him faintly, looking a little dazed.

Alex smiled, flopping down into his arms and kissing him. "I guess we'll see."

\--

The next morning they were both awake early, despite their exertions of the previous night, and Yassen declared he was going down to take advantage of the hotel gym. Alex declined the invitation to join him, preferring to sit in the window looking down at the sea and savour a leisurely breakfast. They'd decided to stay for a couple of days, and rest before starting the long journey further south.

When there was a knock on the door a few minutes later, Alex opened it without thinking, assuming that either Yassen had forgotten to pick up their key-card, or that it was the chambermaid. The woman standing there, in a sombre black coat at odds with the sunshine made him take a startled step backwards, throat constricting with alarm.

Mrs Jones gave him a slight nod. "Hello Alex. May I come in?"

He shook his head, tight and panicky, but she was already over the threshold, driving him backwards merely with the shock of her presence. His brain was scrambling for purchase, trying to figure out a way of warning Yassen and coming up blank.

"Mrs Jones." Finding his voice, it came out scratchy and hoarse. "What - what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Amongst other things." She cast an eye round the room, and Alex prayed for Yassen to stay downstairs out of sight, prayed for her to leave.

"Look, I - I'm sorry if I scared anyone," Alex said quickly, stumbling over his words. "I just needed to get away. I didn't think it would be such a big deal. But I'm fine."

Mrs Jones looked at him, and he tried to smile at her. Waved an arm vaguely at the lavish room. "I just needed a holiday."

She pursed her lips, gave a small sigh. "Irresponsibly executed, but forgivable. Your choice of travelling companion, however? Less so."

Alex's heart sank. "I don't know what you mean. I'm on my own - " he started, but she held up a hand. 

"Please don't lie to me Alex. I know who you're with. In point of fact, I saw him downstairs, and as he appeared to be otherwise occupied, I thought I'd take the opportunity of having a quiet word." She paused. "I wanted to ascertain if you were with him voluntarily or not."

Alex nodded, hesitantly. "Yes. And I know what you're going to say, but - "

"Do you?" She shook her head. "I'm not sure you comprehend your own situation Alex."

"How did you even find us?" Alex asked sulkily.

"Your call to Sabine Pleasure."

His spirits sank even further. So it had been his fault. "You traced it?"

She gave him a rather pitying smile. "You called from an unencrypted landline. Miss Pleasure, who appears to be a very enterprising young lady, dialled last caller ID. A number which she passed on to me. It was a short exercise to identify the telephone box, and almost as simple to access local CCTV footage from the time of the call. Once we had your car registration, it was a matter of hours before we had your subsequent location."

Alex looked disgusted, in equal parts with himself and with the modern age of surveillance that made spying so easy. "Why can't you just leave us alone? We're not doing anything wrong."

"No? As a matter of fact, I could probably bring a charge against you of harbouring a dangerous criminal if I chose." She relented. "I won't, of course. But Gregorovich is a wanted felon. And I have to bring him in, Alex. You know I do."

"Don't see why. He's left all that behind him now, he's changed," Alex said pleadingly.

"Is that what he's told you?" The look of pity was back. "I presume you're at least aware he recently escaped from prison?"

Alex nodded warily.

"Did he tell you that in order to effect this escape, he killed the guard escorting him?" She studied Alex's face, implacable. "I can see that he didn't."

"I don't care," Alex managed, although his lungs felt so tight he could hardly breathe.

"Oh, you don't care? He had a wife and young family you know, the man that was killed. Perhaps you'd like to tell them that you don't care?" 

Alex looked away, arms wrapped defensively around himself. 

"He was sentenced to life in prison Alex. There's nothing I could do even if I wanted to."

"Oh, and he got a fair trial did he?" Alex spat, but the look he received in return was hard.

"You think a British jury would react sympathetically to a list of his crimes, do you? And that would be just the ones we know about. I don't get it, Alex. The man killed your own uncle for God's sake, what could he possibly have said to make you want to spend so much as a minute in his company?"

"You don't understand," Alex said wretchedly.

"No. You're right, I don't." Mrs Jones sighed. "You've been through a lot. I know that. Things no boy your age should ever have had to endure. And it left a mark on you, a deep one. I know you refused to see the counsellors you were offered, and with respect Alex, I think that was a mistake. You suffered something close to a nervous breakdown after Cairo. You're damaged, Alex. You need to understand and accept that before we can help you."

"You're wrong."

"I've spoken to your doctors - "

"Not about me. About Yassen. He's - he's been there for me. When no-one else was."

"I don't know what he's done to sway you like this Alex - although to be honest your sleeping arrangements are giving me cause for concern." She eyed the double bed cautiously and softened her tone. "Alex - I have to ask - is he making you - "

"You don't know anything!" Alex interrupted, feeling tears stinging his eyes.

"Really? I've known him, by reputation at least, longer than you've been alive. I've dealt with the aftermath of his handiwork. Don't make the mistake of thinking he's a nice man, Alex."

"I don't need _nice_ ," Alex said desperately. "I need someone who _understands_. And he's the only one who does. And I don't care if you think he's fucking brainwashed me, I - I love him."

"Oh Alex." Mrs Jones shook her head sadly. "We can help you. But you have to let us."

Alex could feel tears spilling down his cheek and dashed them angrily away with his hand.

"You know you'd better hope that I'm the one that's right. That he has changed."

"Why's that?" 

Alex sniffed, swallowing painfully. "Because he's standing behind you."

She went still. "That's a schoolboy trick, Alex. Hardy worthy of you."

"He's not a schoolboy any more. And there's no trick." 

The quiet voice from behind her made Mrs Jones stiffen, but to her credit she turned round calmly to face him.

"Yassen."

He was leaning just inside the door, towel over one shoulder. She realised she had no idea how long he'd been there.

Yassen was watching her with a look of slight amusement, although there was a hard edge to it. 

"Something you should know next time you're sneaking about in hotel gyms," he said conversationally. "Lots of mirrors."

Her expression remained impassive. "Something _you_ should know. My people have this building surrounded. They're just waiting for the signal to move in."

Yassen looked at her consideringly. "No. You're bluffing. If it was true, I'd be in custody already. Or dead." He smiled, thinly. "You didn't come to America looking for me, you came for Alex. Only, he's not an active operative any more, and there was no reason to suspect foul play. Are you even here officially? Do you have jurisdiction? Or are you acting on your own time? A favour to the family, because you feel guilty about Alex?"

She stared back sourly. "Would that make two of us?"

If she was trying to make him angry, it had no marked effect. Yassen merely raised an eyebrow, half shrugged. 

"Perhaps."

Mrs Jones took a step towards the door, and Yassen moved at the same time, no closer, but to block her exit. She stopped.

"You're going to kill me then, are you? In front of Alex?"

"Do I need to?" Yassen closed the door to the room, leaned on it, deceptively casual. "You could just let us walk out of here."

"I can't do that. I happen to think you should pay for the things you've done, regardless of motivation or remorse. Not that I can see much evidence of that. You want to walk out of here, you'll have to kill me."

"As you wish." Yassen drew a gun out from the back of his waistband, made a show of checking the clip. 

Mrs Jones took a deep breath. "You'd really do it? Kill me in cold blood? In front of Alex? I suppose at least that would serve to demonstrate to him what kind of man you really are. Fine. Go ahead."

"I'm not going to kill you," Yassen said, and smiled. "I'm going to make Alex do it." With that, he threw the gun over her shoulder, where Alex caught it by reflex. She spun round, realising even as she moved that it was the wrong thing to do, that Alex looked as startled as she did, that it was only a blind. And in the split second before the edge of Yassen's hand connected with the back of her neck, Mrs Jones realised that stupidest thing she'd done since entering the building was to turn her back on him.

They looked down at the unmoving body sprawled on the carpet in silence. Yassen retrieved his gun from Alex, checked the safety and tucked it back into his jeans, before bending to check Mrs Jones' breathing and pulse.

"Is she - ?" Alex fidgeted, nervous and upset.

"She's okay. She'll be fine." Yassen straightened up, started throwing the few loose items he had out into his bag. Alex stood and watched him pack, a hollow feeling inside his stomach, like falling.

Yassen zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. Hesitated, looking at Alex, who still hadn't moved. "Coming?" he asked, and there was just a note of uncertainty in it.

Alex nodded jerkily, finding he could move again and grabbing his own stuff in sudden haste.

They took the stairs to the ground floor. "I think we can safely leave her to pick up the tab," Yassen said, guiding Alex out of a side door.

Alex made to walk towards where they'd parked, but Yassen reached out to stall him.

"No, not that way. We need a different car."

Alex reached out instinctively towards Yassen's outstretched hand, and Yassen took hold of him, lacing his fingers between Alex's and pulling him along. The touch was comforting, but Alex still felt battered and confused - more so when he took in the car Yassen appeared to have chosen.

" _This_ one?"

"I think so."

They were standing in front of a bright red Ferrari, and Alex looked from the car to Yassen.

"Can you even start it? Don't you need one of those electronic fob things these days?"

"Who says I don't have one?" Yassen took something out of his pocket and the car bleeped open. "Get in."

"How did you - ?" Alex slid into the passenger seat, trying to find enough free space to stuff his bag in as well.

"I saw the guy pull up. Hard to miss." Yassen pulled the driver's door shut and started the engine in a roar that went all the way up Alex's spine. "And if people will insist on leaving their bags unattended in changing rooms - well." He shrugged, and Alex shook his head.

"You really do think on your feet, don't you?"

"It helps." 

"Aren't we a little conspicuous in this?" Alex asked nervously. 

"That's the thing. You break traffic laws in a piece of shit, people get angry. Do it in this? More often than not they wave you on past." Yassen smiled tightly, pulling out of the hotel grounds and already accelerating.

Alex was pressed back in the seat, eyes wide. Up to now Yassen had been a very careful motorist, not wanting to draw attention to them. Alex hadn't really appreciated what kind of driving he was capable of. When they hit the route back to the mainland, they were already going at twice the speed of anything else on the road.

Not wanting to break Yassen's concentration as he weaved between the traffic, Alex stayed silent as the miles flew past considerably faster than they had the day before. The noise and throbbing power of the engine coupled with their speed was giving him a guilty erection, and he was faintly glad that Yassen's eyes were firmly on the road ahead. 

After the shock of Mrs Jones' verbal assassination he'd felt shaken to the core, but for now sheer adrenaline was taking over and by the time they pulled up in the centre of the first sizeable town they came to, Alex would have let Yassen fuck him over the bonnet with barely a second's hesitation.

Following him out of the car, Alex sobered abruptly as he looked up at the building they'd stopped in front of. He blinked, then ran to catch up with Yassen who was already walking off down the road, brisk but unhurried.

"Did you seriously just park that thing in front of a police station?"

"Politeness costs nothing," Yassen murmured, and Alex caught the twitch of a smile. 

"Show off." Alex smiled back, and there was a second of connection between them as their eyes met. But events of the morning were still hanging heavily over them both, and Yassen was preoccupied.

"We need to get off the street. Find a room somewhere." He looked quickly at Alex, as if expecting an argument, but Alex only shrugged. 

"Okay."

Twenty minutes later they were in a downmarket hotel that had the distinct air of somewhere that was used to being rented by the hour. Instead of the sea there was constant traffic noise outside the window, and the view was of a brick wall and a metal fire escape. But the bed was clean, and the door locked, and the bored man on reception hadn't even looked at them. 

Yassen dropped his bag on the bed and sighed. "I have to go out again."

"What? Why?"

"We need another car. One a little less obvious. Also, one that's not stolen."

"I'll come with you," Alex started, but Yassen shook his head. 

"It's better if you don't. They'll be looking for us by now. I'll be less noticeable on my own."

Alex said nothing, wondering miserably if Yassen was thinking that held true for more than the short term, if he planned on ditching him. He couldn't blame him.

Some of it must have shown on his face, because Yassen came over and tilted Alex's chin up until he was forced to meet his eyes. 

"I'm coming back," Yassen promised quietly. 

Alex nodded, a little of the tension leaking away. Yassen studied him for a second before stepping away. "I'll be as quick as I can. Lock the door behind me."

Once he'd gone, Alex was left alone with his thoughts. After the thrill of the car journey he'd have let Yassen fuck him without a second thought but now he had time to dwell on things, second, third and fourth thoughts were catching up on him.

Alex ran over and over the things Mrs Jones had said, feeling more depressed each time. He wished he knew how much of it Yassen had heard. He'd only appeared in the doorway moments before Mrs Jones had become aware of him, but Alex had no idea how long he might have been outside.

He wondered if the fact Yassen hadn't kissed him goodbye was significant. Then wondered if Yassen had been waiting for him to initiate it. Alex groaned, head in his hands, wishing Yassen would come back, but dreading the conversation that would take place when he did.

It was nearly three hours before there was a knock on the door and Alex approached it in some trepidation, more than half convinced it would be the police, or Mrs Jones again. To his relief, the distorted view through the spyhole showed him Yassen, alone, and he dragged it open hastily, locking it again as soon as Yassen was inside.

Yassen dropped a set of car keys on the table and leaned against it, looking tired. 

"Ready to roll."

"Now?" Alex looked surprised, but Yassen shook his head.

"No. I think on balance we'd be better waiting until tomorrow. There'll be a lot of people looking for us right now, let them spread out a little." Yassen blew out a breath. "South America's looking more appealing by the minute."

He looked at Alex, still standing quietly by the door, looking wretched. 

"I'll understand. If you don't want to come with me," Yassen said quietly.

Alex frowned, coming over to him and giving a tight shake of his head. "Shut up," Alex told him, then kissed him, darting in with a sudden, hard press of his lips that half-missed Yassen's mouth, but Yassen's arms closed around him in thankful surprise and he found they were clinging to each other in relief.

After a while, Alex pulled back a little and sighed. "How much did you hear earlier?" he asked.

"All of it. I followed her upstairs." Yassen looked at him, wondering what to say. The facts she'd stated so baldly about him had been true enough, and he wished he knew what Alex was thinking. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

"Don't." Alex rested two fingertips against Yassen's lips. "You've - never made me feel ashamed, of anything. I'm not about to start on you."

" _Alex_." Yassen pulled him close again, and held him almost tight enough to bruise.

This time when Alex looked up there was a tinge of pink in his pale cheeks. "I told her - I told her I was in love with you."

"I heard." Yassen smiled. "I don't think she took it well."

"I don't care - I meant it," Alex said awkwardly.

Yassen kissed him again, slow and intent. "For the record?" he whispered. "I love you too."

"Really?" Alex looked at him with such amazement that Yassen frowned.

"Is that such a surprise?"

"Well, yeah. Why would anyone fall in love with me?" Alex gave a brittle laugh. "Broken, remember?" 

"You're not broken, Alex."

"You seem to be the only one who thinks that."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think - " Alex considered, then slowly smiled. Yassen's arms around him were making him feel warmer than he had for hours, and hope was slowly rekindling in his chest. "I think you should take me to bed. And do something unspeakably filthy to me, that Mrs Jones would in no way approve of."

Yassen slowly smiled back, before kissing him with a thoroughness that left Alex breathless.

He rubbed a dark smudge off Alex's cheek that he'd made with his hand. "Deal. I need a shower first though. Poking around in car lots all afternoon isn't my favourite job in the world. And I don't think this is the kind of filth you had in mind."

Unwilling to leave his side again even for a few minutes, Alex followed him into the bathroom and they crammed together into the tiny shower cubicle, lamenting the loss of the enormous bath tub they'd had to leave behind when they fled the last hotel. They'd had plans for that bath.

For now they made the best of it, locked in a tight embrace and kissing hungrily beneath the falling water. There was only just room, but fortunately neither man was especially large - Yassen slim but deceptively muscled, Alex still too thin but with the promise of broader shoulders in his future. It crossed Yassen's mind that perhaps by the time Alex had finished growing he'd even be the taller of the two, and experienced a faint flush of guilt at the recollection that Alex was still only sixteen. But Alex was eager in his arms, as demanding in his kisses as Yassen himself, and he let the thought go.

Alex's only pause for thought was to wonder fleetingly what Mrs Jones would make of this, were she to catch up with them at this precise moment. He gave a rather unsteady laugh, shifting restlessly from fear of being caught again more than anything else, but Yassen's hands were more soothing than any number of words. Alex pressed up against him, taking comfort from every touch of skin, his jumping nerves slowly calming.

There wasn't space for them to get overly creative, and for a while they were content to simply hold each other, a quiet reassurance that this was genuinely where the other wanted to be. They were both hard, but not paying much attention to it, not yet, just letting hands explore warm, slippery skin, mapping each other with fingertips. Shutting their eyes against the water and the world outside and enjoying a moment of respite from their troubles, just the two of them, no secrets, no promises, just the silent, trusting honesty of their kisses.

"Can I touch you?" Alex murmured eventually, ducking his head sheepishly at the incongruity of the comment, given he was already plastered against Yassen from head to toe. "I mean - "

Yassen grinned. "You can do anything you want," he agreed, and Alex slid a hand down between them, circling Yassen's hard cock and stroking him appreciatively. It was awkward in the cramped space though, and before long Alex had managed to bang his elbow.

"Ow!"

Yassen snorted with laughter, then looked apologetic. "Maybe we should get out?" he suggested. "Get a little more - horizontal?"

They towelled off quickly and climbed into the bed, where Alex pushed Yassen down against the pillows and straddled his legs meaningfully. Yassen let him do as he liked, watching him intently all the while, his hands moving over Alex's still-damp skin in a constant caress.

Alex caught Yassen's eye in a brief, wordless declaration of intent and wriggled lower, bending to take him into his mouth before he lost his nerve.

The softness of his tongue against the head of Yassen's cock was enough to make the Russian groan out loud. Encouraged, Alex repeated the action, lapping gently, kissing the shaft, sliding his lips around the head, finding his limits. He discovered he couldn't take Yassen far in without gagging and reverted to licking and kissing, hoping this was acceptable in place of something more skilled. 

When he crawled back up to lie at Yassen's side, lips reddened and spit-slick, cheeks flushed, he was welcomed with a smile and a kiss.

"Sorry, Alex whispered. "That was probably crap." He hadn't even made him come.

" _Crap?_ That was incredible." Yassen folded Alex into his arms, wishing he had the words to convey exactly how incredible, how insanely arousing the tentative, gentle motions of Alex's mouth on him had been. Knowing it was his first time doing this made Yassen want to wrap him in some kind of protective cocoon and hide him away. 

On the other hand, it also made him want to fuck Alex into the mattress, and he wasn't entirely confident which emotion was going to win.

"I want you." Alex's lips moved against his cheek, the words barely a breath. Yassen turned his head, kissed him on the mouth.

"You sure you want to do this?" 

Alex nodded, and Yassen pulled him close, kissing him harder. "It may hurt a little," he warned.

Alex looked up at him, eyes dark and peaceful. "I want this. I want - I want to feel like I'm really yours. That I belong to you."

Yassen swallowed, resisting the growing urge to just start thrusting against him. It would be incredibly easy at this point to make himself come all over Alex's pale skin, and the mental image was tempting.

Instead, he made himself slide quickly out of the bed to rifle through his pockets.

Alex gave him an amused look, not having missed the fact Yassen was searching the jeans he'd just taken off, rather than his overnight bag. When he rejoined him in the bed, Alex smirked.

"You weren't just shopping for cars earlier, were you?"

"Guilty." Yassen gave a quiet laugh, dropping his purchases on the duvet: lube, and condoms. To his surprise, Alex kissed him hard on the cheek before ducking away again. Gave him enquiring eyes, but Alex shook his head, blushing, unwilling to voice the thought that while he'd been sitting fretting about the fact Yassen might be about to leave him, Yassen had been out there thinking about screwing him, and how stupidly happy that made him. 

Yassen gave up and laughed, pulling Alex back down to the bed with him and slipping a hand between his legs, playfully intent. 

He took his time, making sure Alex was as ready and relaxed as he could make him before Yassen finally pushed inside him, Alex's legs splayed around his hips, fingers clenching in the sheets.

"Okay?" Yassen whispered, holding himself still for a moment, letting Alex acclimatise. But Alex didn't look like he was uncomfortable, he looked like he was having a religious experience, blissed out, with wide eyes and parted lips.

"It's - perfect," Alex breathed wonderingly, and Yassen laughed, low and surprised. He started to move, drawing slowly out and thrusting back in; long, slow strokes that made Alex moan in approval.

"You like that?" he couldn't help teasing, as Alex continued to make almost feral noises of pleasure.

"I don't want you to ever stop," Alex panted, laughing at himself but too far gone to care. It was better than he'd ever imagined, this feeling of being filled so utterly, of being _joined_ like this.

Yassen grinned, looking down at Alex sprawled beneath him, hair sweat-darkened and chest heaving. "I might have to stop some time," he said, hands sliding beneath Alex's backside to deepen the angle. "If only for breakfast."

Alex had a fit of giggles in the middle of what had started out as a groan, and slapped Yassen reprovingly on the arm, making him laugh.

"Oh, you want serious?" Yassen started moving faster and harder inside him, and Alex practically whimpered, grabbing his own cock and jerking himself off roughly. 

With the bed protesting beneath them, they finally brought each other to a shuddering, desperate climax. Alex came first, overwhelmed by the sensations and trembling from head to foot, shooting his load all over his stomach and chest as Yassen fucked him through it.

Barely seconds later Yassen was coming as well, losing the last shreds of his control at the feeling of Alex spasming around him in orgasm. 

Heavy limbed, he pulled carefully out of Alex's still-shivering body and disposed of the condom, before cleaning Alex up with a handful of tissues.

Alex lay there and let him, feeling too stunned to be of any help other than smiling up at him gratefully as Yassen pulled the duvet over them both and held him close.

"You okay?"

"Mmn." Alex yawned, and ran his fingertips along Yassen's jawline. "Can we do it again?"

Yassen laughed. "You might have to give me a minute."

Alex settled against him comfortably. "Well I didn't mean right this second," he smiled.

"Be amazed if you can even walk tomorrow after taking that," Yassen said. He hugged him tighter for a second. "Was I too rough?"

Alex lifted his head and bit Yassen gently on the arm. "Next time?"

"Mmn?"

"Be rougher."

They dozed, warm and content, while the daylight in the window slowly gave way to orange neon. When they woke they kissed again, for a long time, and later still Yassen made mugs of tea and they drank them slowly, side by side in the bed, talking of everything and nothing.

Alex's mind flitted idly from subject to subject, until something he'd wondered before reoccurred to him.

"How come you recognised her?" Alex asked, sliding back down under the covers. "In the hotel I mean. I didn't realise you'd met."

"Who, Jones?" Yassen gave him a rather mirthless smile. "Oh, she paid me a couple of visits."

"In prison?"

"Yeah. A few private interrogation sessions." Yassen stretched, and sighed. "Wanted to know details of my history with Scorpia. Names, arrangements, missions, that kind of thing."

"Did you tell her?"

Yassen snorted. "Do I look stupid? They were far more likely to kill me than she was, if I spilled anything." He rolled onto his side and smiled at Alex. "Besides, for all I knew, by that point you might have been working for them."

Alex considered this, and grinned, snuggling closer until he was half-draped over Yassen's chest. "They might have sent me after you," he teased.

"Mmn. That _would_ have been interesting," Yassen said.

"Would you have killed me?"

Yassen looked him over as if considering, then shook his head. "No," he said softly.

"Not even to save yourself?" Alex smiled.

"Didn't I prove that already?" Yassen asked, laughing. Alex's fingers drifted instinctively to the scar on Yassen's chest.

"I guess you did," he whispered. They kissed each other, almost solemnly.

"I wouldn't have done it either," Alex murmured after a while, during which the kisses had continued, now sleepy and fond. "In case you were wondering. No matter what anybody said."

"Good to know," Yassen smiled. He took Alex's hand in his, threading their fingers together on the pillow between them, and watched as Alex's eyes gradually drifted closed again. 

Yassen wondered what the future would bring, whether they would be allowed to fade into peaceful obscurity or forced to keep fighting. He knew he was prepared to protect Alex with his life, and to defend this chance they had, even if it meant a lifetime of running.

He kissed Alex's fingers lightly, and felt him squeeze back, saw him smile faintly without opening his eyes. 

After a minute or two of indulging himself by watching Alex fall asleep, Yassen finally closed his own eyes and let himself relax alongside him. Both of them secure now in the knowledge that their allegiance, regardless of the past or any other factor was, and always would be, to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely intended as a prequel to [Lights Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/913870).


End file.
